


The Shadow Prince

by Lhugy_for_short



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Happy Ending, Kidnapping, M/M, Thief and Prince AU, Thief!Ignis, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:34:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21898969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lhugy_for_short/pseuds/Lhugy_for_short
Summary: When Prince Noctis of Lucis is whisked away in the middle of the night, he can't begin to imagine the chain of events that his kidnapping will set into motion. But if he's going to get back home in time to stop a war, he's going to need some help from his new friends in low places.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum, Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 13
Kudos: 47
Collections: FFXV Holiday Gift Exchange 2019





	1. The Crowning Heist

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mars_McKie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mars_McKie/gifts).



> Happy Holidays to Mars_McKie, who requested Ignoct and tickling ;) How this turned into a 33k monster of a fic is beyond me, but I hope you enjoy the ride!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis isn't exactly fond of being kidnapped on a regular basis, but at least it gets him out of the house.

It wasn’t every day Noctis woke to the flat of a blade pressed to his throat. 

He was a prince, and as such he was aware of the many downsides that came with being royalty. For one, he was a constant target for assassins, headhunters, and nearly every organization in Lucis that had something against his father (which was most of them, actually). At nineteen, Noct had already had more attempts on his life than most established con artists, and to be frank, they were never even very  _ good _ ones. The monotony of being dragged down from his tower, then dragged right back up to it again by the castle guards, was beginning to bore him. 

And  _ this  _ idiot had chosen to wake him in the middle of the night. 

“Scream, and I’ll be forced to cut out your tongue,” the man threatened from behind a dark cowl. He had an accent, Noct noticed. Was he not Lucian, then? That helped explain his rookie mistakes. “Get up quietly. You’re coming with me.” 

Unphased, Noctis stared right into the shadows of the hood where he expected the man’s eyes might be. Assuming he even had both of them. “Aren’t you at least going to tell me why I’m being kidnapped? There’re rules to this sort of thing, y’know.” He was half tempted to roll over and go right back to sleep, but the man’s knees were locked on either side of his body, effectively pinning him in place in his own bed.

How rude. 

“I did not come here for games,  _ Highness _ . I’m taking you out of the Citadel, that’s all you need to know. Now,  _ up. _ ” 

Black robes shifted, and the knife pressing to Noct’s throat disappeared somewhere inside of them. A gloved hand reached out in its place to grab him by the upper arm. “Hey, chill. I’m up, I’m up,” Noct groaned, swatting the man away. Even under the hood, he could read the visible confusion there, yet his kidnapper didn’t protest. He merely stood back, watching, as Noct swung his bare feet over the edge of his mattress and stretched his arms up high. “Can I at least get dressed, or do you want me to freeze to death while we’re at it?” 

Again, the man didn’t seem to have an answer ready for that. Instead, he gestured with a gloved hand to the large wooden wardrobe against the wall, indicating that Noct may do as he liked. “Thank you,” the prince grumbled. He did his best impression of a groggy, mildly annoyed teenager (he was very convincing) as he padded across the cold floor and snatched up a handful of clothes: a knitted shirt, black; thick leggings, also black; a coat made of anak hide and fur, dyed, predictably, all black. 

He’d just begun to tug his night shirt up over his head when he caught sight of the cloaked man still watching him from across the room. 

Noct frowned. “Uh, do you mind? You’re not, like, one of  _ those _ kidnappers, are you?” 

With a start, the man quickly shook his head. “Oh! Er, no. Sorry. Please.” His cowl turned to the side, one hand modestly coming up to shield the rest of his view. “But you had better not try to run, or I’ll be forced to--” 

“Cut off my toes, yeah, yeah. Heard that one before. Morbid overkill, if you ask me.” 

A moment of awkward silence. He tugged up his leggings beneath his shirt, and was just fastening a black leather belt around them when the man addressed him again. “Forgive me for saying, Highness, but you don’t seem very frightened. Is it something I’ve said?” 

“You?” Noct scoffed, sliding his arms through the sleeves of his coat. “Nah. You’re trying your best, I get that. Let’s just say you’re not exactly the first assassin, thief, and/or stalker who’s attempted to ‘whisk me away,’ or whatever.” 

“I...see.” 

“My dad’s not stupid. He’s got Glaives posted all over the castle, and around Insomnia, too. I usually never make it past the front doors, so, y’know.” Buttons all in place, he slipped on a pair of boots and combed his fingers once back through the mess of hair on his head. “Sorry for not really getting your hopes up.” 

Suddenly, the man straightened his stance. As he faced Noctis he drew his cowl back, baring an unexpectedly handsome face and easily the most beautiful emerald eyes the prince had ever laid, well, eyes on. Beneath them, high cheekbones and a proud nose, followed by elegant lips curved up in a cocky smile.

For once, Noct found himself speechless. 

“If you doubt my skills in stealing precious treasures from highly guarded castles, young prince, then you clearly do not know who I am.” Striding forward, the man once again reached for Noct’s arm, his grip firm and unyielding this time. “My name is Ignis Scientia, and I shall become the Master of the Thieves Guild of Lucis.  _ You _ are to be my crowning heist.” 

* * *

_ Master of puns and excessive detours, more like,  _ Noct grumbled to himself as they cut down yet another narrow alley in the dark. Ignis seemed to be leading them on the longest possible route out of the city, taking side streets and avoiding contact with anything else on two legs. The strategy in and of itself wasn’t a bad one; they had managed to keep out of sight of any Glaives since leaving the Citadel. But it would have been far faster, in the prince’s opinion, if his kidnapper had just bothered asking him for directions. 

Not that Noctis knew where  _ all  _ of the guards were stationed, of course. And they weren’t exactly inconspicuous, not with the giant cloak billowing behind Ignis like a Master of Fashion Disasters everywhere they went. Or with the fact that Noct’s hands were tied in front of him in tacky execution-style. And even if Ignis had asked him for help, it wasn’t like he could do much talking around the rag shoved in his mouth. Aside from the cold, his aching feet, and the fact that he was out of bed so early,  _ that _ was probably his biggest complaint about the whole ‘kidnapped prince’ thing. 

Oh, well. In Ignis’ defense, at least he’d used a clean gag. 

“Wait. Quiet.” Suddenly, a gloved hand shot out to halt Noctis in his tracks. Ignis was pressed to the wall of a building, his cloak blending perfectly with the shadows ( _ oh _ , now it made sense) as he scouted around the corner. Noct ducked down behind him. He could hear the faint thudding of boots on stone, the clank of armor under thick fur coats. 

_ Glaives _ . 

Had his father’s men already noticed he was missing from the castle? That seemed unlikely. Patrol, then. But all the way out here, by the Wall? 

“We need to turn back.” When Ignis glanced back at him, Noct could see the agitation in his eyes even in the dark of his hood. It seemed he hadn’t been expecting the guards in a place like this, either. 

_ We just have distract them,  _ Noct tried to say. He’d seen it done loads of times, and at any rate, it’d save a lot more time than backtracking the long way around again. But all that came out of his mouth was a series of unintelligible mumbles. Ignis, suspicious, narrowed his eyes. 

_ C’mon, please just take it out, _ the prince pleaded instead. If his plan was going to work, they needed to move fast, and that wasn’t happening so long as he was bound and gagged like a common prisoner. Even if Ignis still didn’t trust him - and, fine, fair enough - they were both rapidly running out of time. 

The guards’ footsteps grew closer. Noct’s eyes were practically begging.  _ Please! They’re coming!  _ Hesitantly, and clearly against his better judgement, Ignis lowered one hand to his dagger as he pulled the rag from Noct’s mouth. 

“ _ Pfft!  _ Finally!” 

“What do you want?” Ignis hissed.

“To get us out of this.” He opened his mouth to scream. 

“...Noctis, no!” 

“ _ Aaaah!! Help! Thief!!” _

It was oddly high-pitched, hardly believable at all, but it got the guards running just the same. Ignis didn’t quite have time for a proper scowl before Noct was grabbing him with bound hands, pulling him backwards into the alcove of some entrance or other. Right up into the corner, where there was barely enough space to fit the two of them, even pressed tight together under Ignis’ cloak. But it  _ did _ give them ample cover. They must have looked just like one big shadow as the guards went marching by, abandoning their post in favor of a wild chocobo chase. 

Long after they passed, Ignis finally released the breath he’d been holding. He looked down at Noctis. Seemed to study him for a moment, until realization struck and his eyes widened in the dark. “Oh. Apologies, you must be….” 

“‘S fine,” Noct smiled, adjusting his hands so they weren’t resting quite so obviously on Ignis’ chest. “Looks like it worked, huh?”

“Indeed. But...why did you do that?” 

A shrug. “It was all I could think of. Did you have any better ideas?” 

“No, I mean--” He shook his head beneath his cowl. “Why did you send them away? They could have rescued you. Have you forgotten the position you’re currently in?” 

Blue eyes blinked slowly. Noctis looked from Ignis’ face down to his shoulders, then to the walls on either side of them both. And he smirked. “Kinda hard to forget a position like this, actually.” 

One swift step backwards had Ignis putting a more respectable distance between them. He frowned and brushed invisible dust from the front of his robes. “Nevermind. You can go without the gag for now. But I warn you, if you try anything like that again I’ll be forced to--”

“To what?” Noct challenged, and he didn’t miss the way Ignis’ gaze flicked almost imperceptibly to his lips. 

“...Just don’t do it again.” Turning on his heels, he brought a prompt end to the discussion. 

With a shrug, the prince followed after him. Back out onto the street and around the unguarded corner to see what appeared, at first glance, to be a dead end. Crates were stacked along the inner face of the Wall, the impenetrable stone border that enclosed the city. But there was nothing else, at least no obvious clues as to why Ignis had brought them to this spot. 

It was almost...disappointing. Anticlimactic after such an otherwise impressive attempt to smuggle him out of Insomnia. Doomed, of course, from the very start, but even Noct had to admit it was a shame to see it end like this. 

Or perhaps, he thought as his eyes widened, Ignis had one more trick up his sleeve that evening. 

He worked quickly, rapping gloved knuckles on the lids of several of the crates until he seemed to hear what he was looking for. Examining one crate in particular more closely, he located a small symbol engraved on one of its planks, which then came loose surprisingly easily under his touch. And beyond, beneath a second trap door in the floor of the crate, were  _ stairs _ . 

“No way…,” Noct gaped, taking a few cautious steps closer. “Is that…?”

“A tunnel, yes. It leads out past the Wall, which is where we’re heading next. After you, Highness.” Even without Ignis’ hand on his shoulder guiding him down into the pitch black, curiosity would have driven him into the tunnel anyway. How long ago had this been built? How long had people been coming in and out of the city through secret passages like this? It was incredible to think that an entire underground network might exist beneath the foundations of Lucis, as old as - or older - than the kingdom itself. 

His thoughts were just beginning to run away from him when Ignis struck up a torch at his back. All at once, the tunnel was thrown into illumination - the worn stone floor, the wood-and-iron beams, the symbols that were carved here and there for those travelers who could understand them. One symbol in particular seemed to appear especially frequently as they journeyed deeper through the tunnel. It was simple - two daggers crossed beneath a hooded skull - but its meaning was far less clear than some of the other designs. Arrows, for example, directed them left or right, and circles with X’s likely meant dead ends. But what was the purpose of the skull? 

“It’s the symbol of our Guild,” Ignis explained when Noct finally got bored enough to ask. “For thieves, it means we’re close to home.”

“Oh.”

“For everyone else, it means certain death.” 

The prince rolled his eyes in the dim light. “Are you always this dramatic?”

“The Guild doesn’t welcome outsiders easily, as you might imagine. Can’t be too careful when every city is full of spies and enemies.” 

“Okay, first of all,” he retorted. “Maybe you’d have fewer enemies if you didn’t steal stuff, yeah?  _ Or people _ . Second, why not just make a system for telling who’s a spy and who isn’t? Like a secret password, or a handshake.” 

Ignis dipped his torch near the wall as they passed, checking the symbols and adjusting their course. “We have our methods, though I suppose we’re more the type to stab first and ask questions later. As a general rule, we’ve learned not to trust anyone - especially not irritating princes who talk too much,” he added, with a glance over his shoulder.

Noct sighed. Point taken, he supposed, though what else was he expected to do on this trip if not talk? It wasn’t like Ignis was his first choice for companionship, either, but marching on in complete silence was going to drive him mad. For the record, he honest-to-gods gave it his best shot at first. Tried focusing on the rhythm of their footfalls echoing in the tunnel, or the flicker of the torch playing across the shadows of Ignis’ robes. He really, truly did try, but in the end he lasted for all of five minutes before he was back to distracting them both. 

“It’s not like I’m  _ trying  _ to be irritating, y’know. You’re the one who dragged me out of bed at knifepoint, remember?” A scoff that might have been amusement. “I guess the reason I’m asking all these questions is so I know what to expect when we get to this weird-ass Guild of yours.” 

At that, Ignis finally stopped to turn his full attention on the prince. Drawing back his hood, he lifted the torch up between them as if studying Noct’s face. “We aren’t going to the Thieves’ Guild,” he said slowly, carefully. 

“We’re not? But you said…?” 

“I said I was kidnapping you  _ for  _ the Guild. It’s tradition, really. Each contender for the position of Guild Master must perform an impossible heist, something that sets them apart as a thief above the rest.” Emerald green eyes faltered, unable to meet Noct’s gaze. “For my bid, I elected to steal a prince.”

“And…? Do what with me, exactly?” 

“Take you to Gralea,” he explained, expression oddly flat in contrast to the sudden anger in Noct’s. “And ransom you to the highest bidding kingdom.” 

Gralea? Ransom? Ignis had to be joking, he just had to be. The Niflheim Empire was his father’s greatest enemy. Their ruler, Iedolas Aldercapt, would likely trade half the treasure in his stronghold if it meant getting his hands on Regis’ only son. In the enemy’s hands, he could be used to bring Lucis to its knees, and to incite the war both sides had been threatening for decades. Noctis swallowed, hard. 

“No. No, you can’t. Ignis,  _ please _ , listen to me for a second.” 

But he was already moving on, shadows quickly swallowing up the torchlight after each step. “Best keep up, Highness. Wouldn’t want to get left in the dark down here.” 

What choice did he have? Noctis fought back the panic building in his chest, and begrudgingly followed after his kidnapper. 


	2. Smoke and Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis takes Noctis to Lestallum, where the prince gets his first taste of the nightlife.

Daybreak was still several hours off. The darkness of night cloaked them as they emerged, in total silence, from the underground tunnels into the open air. Noctis shivered, shrank deeper within his coat as the chill hit him. But even the cold couldn’t dull the sheer beauty of the landscape around him. 

It was the first time he’d ever seen the world outside of Insomnia’s walls. Unlike the cramped, crowded city, here the dusty plains of Leide stretched out for ages in every direction beneath the light of the moon. Mountains rose up in the distance. A road seemed to lead toward them, lined with sparse trees and a stone fence broken in too many places to count. He could see animals slinking around in the dark, too; wild ones, like sabertusks, gathered around a piece of carrion. 

It was inspiring. It was thrilling. It was almost enough to make him never want to go home. 

Behind him, Ignis finished replacing the broken plank of wood that served to hide the tunnel’s entrance. He brushed the dust off of his gloves, out of his hair and cloak, and turned at last to face the prince. “We’re far enough from the city for now. We’ll make camp here for the night.” 

“ _ Here? _ ” Noct repeated with an added groan for effect. “But there’s nowhere to sleep. And it’s  _ cold _ .  _ And  _ there are monsters.” 

“Need I remind you that we are not on holiday?”

“No.” Growing sullen, he let his bound wrists fall uselessly back into his lap. “But couldn’t we at least find a warm place with blankets? It’s not like I’ll do you much good in Gralea if I’m frozen or dead.” 

“You say that now….” Ignis pinched the bridge of his nose nonetheless. No doubt he was reaching his limits, as well They’d both been up for hours, escaping through the city and getting lost in old, dusty tunnels. Master of All Nighters or not, Ignis was still only human. “Fine. I can at least make us a small fire and some stew. Would that be to His Highness’ liking?” 

“...Whatever.” 

“Then I am at your service.” He affected such a sarcastically deferent bow that Noctis almost -  _ almost  _ \- laughed. But he was hungry and cold, and his feet hurt, and he still couldn’t shake the fear of what his arrival in Gralea might portend.  _ If _ they even made it that far, of course. More likely they’d be found out here in the open by the castle guards by morning. He’d get dragged back to his tower, locked away safely in his room again, and Ignis would be hanged for crimes against the king. 

_ Kind of a waste,  _ the prince sighed to himself, settling down onto a knotted root in place of a comfortable armchair. Despite his profession of choice, Ignis didn’t seem like all that bad of a guy, really. He was young, and intelligent, and would probably make a pretty good friend if his hobby wasn’t going around kidnapping people. 

Now, watching Ignis set up their meager camp, Noct let his mind continue to drift. To his future, to Gralea, and to the stories he’d heard of the far-away Niflheim capital. Then back in time to the past. The strike of Ignis’ blade against a piece of flint took Noctis back to the Citadel, where he used to hear the Glaives training with broadswords outside his window. The flicker of flames sparking to life in the kindling reminded him of the fireplace in his father’s room, where he’d spent so many nights as a kid, listening to stories about heroic adventures. 

Adventures, he thought, not so unlike this one. Adventures in which princesses were taken by evil villains, carried to dangerous lands where they were always (eventually) saved by a knight in shining armor. Noct had never really believed those stories, of course. But that didn’t stop him from casting his eyes every so often toward the distance Wall of the city, searching for signs of a hero of his own. 

“There.” The voice scattered his dreamy thoughts, brought him back to the reality of the moment. “Come warm yourself by the fire while I gather some ingredients. I won’t be long.” 

Ignis picked up his knife again, not bothering to slip it back into his robes as he started out into the night. Something felt...strange. Noct frowned. “Hey. You’re just leaving me here? Aren’t you going to threaten to cut off my knees or something if I try to run away?”

A shrug. Ignis pulled his hood back up to cover his face in shadow. “Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary anymore.”

Then he was gone, blending into the night beyond the glow of the campfire, leaving Noctis alone and in a mood. Not necessary? That felt almost like a challenge. It wasn’t  _ his _ fault his feet were so tired, or that he didn’t know what kind of monsters were lurking out there. He almost felt like running away just to spite Ignis. 

But, he conceded with a sigh, that wasn’t what he wanted, either. Life never seemed to be fair, and it rarely seemed to make any sense. Princes who dreamed of escaping their kingdoms; thieves with a touch of humanity. Under other circumstances, he might have enjoyed a chance to travel the world with someone like Ignis. If only there was a third option, one that didn’t end with him locked away by either Lucis or Niflheim. A path he could choose for himself. 

He’d managed drift off into an uneasy sleep when the smell woke him. It was impossible to ignore, a mouthwatering promise of meat and herbs that instantly had him rolling over for a better look. “What  _ is  _ that?” he asked, groggy but very, very intrigued. 

Ignis glanced at him from the fire, where he was knelt over a small cooking pot. “Dualhorn stew. A little recipe I created the last time I was traveling through Leide on my own.” 

“It smells...amazing.” The prince sat up straighter, eyes going wide now as he caught sight of the rich colors swirling together in the pot. “Can I try some?” 

He was surprised when Ignis smiled. Not a coy smile or a sneaky smile, but a genuine one that lit up his face even brighter than the firelight. “Certainly. I’d love a second opinion on the flavor. I still feel it’s missing something, perhaps you can tell me what you think?” Setting aside his spoon, Ignis reached out and did something unexpected. 

He untied Noct’s hands. 

“Well, then. Are you ready to eat?” 

There was only one bowl, but Noctis wasn’t about to complain. He slurped down what was offered to him in a heartbeat, not bothering to let it cool first. Tender meat slid down his throat, warmed him from the inside out and he hummed pleasantly at the explosion of taste that followed. “ _ Mmm!  _ Wow!”

Chuckling, Ignis filled the bowl back up to the brim for him. “I must say, I never thought I’d have the privilege of cooking for royalty.” 

“You should do it more often,” Noct grinned. “This is incredible. How’d you even make this? We’re out in the middle of nowhere.” 

“A magician never shares his secrets,” came the answering wink. Noct quickly drained the rest of the stew before handing the bowl back over. 

“No offense, but I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be such a good cook. Are all thieves like you?” 

“Hardly,” Ignis scoffed. He took his time with his own serving, taking sips and carefully adding more ingredients to the pot with each taste. “Most of the Guild members wouldn’t know a wild onion from an Allural shallot.”

Noctis blinked. “O-oh….” 

“A lifetime ago, I was once an apprentice under my uncle, a chef in the Tenebraen palace. I learned most of what I know from him.” 

“Tenebrae…? Wait, do you mean where Luna lives?”

“The young lady of the Nox Fleuret house?” Ignis took a long sip from his spoon as he tried to remember. “I believe I did see her once, yes. She was only a few years older than me, but our worlds could not have been more different. I was merely the help. She was a princess.”

There was no missing the distaste in his tone, and Noct suspected it had nothing to do with the stew. For him, it was hard to imagine how a young boy working in a palace could eventually turn to a life of thievery. Hadn’t he been happy there? Grateful, even, for an opportunity so many others could never hope to have? 

Or maybe, he thought, considering his own situation, he could understand it after all. 

“Do you ever miss it?” he asked after a long moment. “Your old life, I mean?" 

"Sometimes." 

Noct blinked as the bowl was pressed into his palms again.  _ Eat,  _ Ignis' smile seemed to urge, so he did. They fell into a comfortable silence then, passing the food between them until the pot was scraped clean. Ignis cleaned up while Noct scouted out a good place to sleep. He found a flat spot next to the campfire, cleared away the small rocks there, and curled up beneath his coat. 

Above him, the night sky stretched endlessly. Stars twinkled and glittered like gemstones against a tapestry of black. It was beautiful. Like nothing he'd ever seen from his window, or even in the picture books he'd read as a child. For a long time, despite the heaviness of sleep tugging at his mind, he simply watched them dancing up there, content to weave them into his dreams. 

Robes shifted as Ignis settled down at his side. His hood was off now, and he wrapped his cloak tight around himself against the cold. "Do you know their names?" he asked, and Noctis shook his head. "Some say the gods live amongst the stars, their deeds painted into the fabric of the night sky like a tapestry. Look, right there. Do you see those five stars in the shape of a crown?" 

He followed where Ignis's gloved finger pointed, high up above their little plot of solid ground. "Hmm. Yeah, I think I see it."

"That constellation is called Ifrit's Bane. It depicts the fall of the Infernian, and the start of the War of the Astrals.” 

“Really?” Noct said, halfway through a yawn. “Where’s the rest of him?” 

“There.” Shifting closer, Ignis trailed his finger across the black expanse of sky, outlining the constellation for him star by star. “And beside him is Leviathan, the patron goddess of Thieves. Do you know her story?”

His eyes drifted closed. Ignis was warm,  _ so warm _ , and without thinking he curled against his side. “Tell me.” 

The story was long, and Noct was only really half listening. The lilt of Ignis’ accent carried him like waves across the night sea, rocking him gently to sleep in the shadows of the wilderness. The last thing he remembered was a smile spreading over his face, and the brush of Ignis’ fingertips as he tucked the coat up to his chin. 

* * *

Fog hung thick over the road when they set out again at first light. Noct could feel his muscles protesting each and every step - after all, they’d only slept for a few hours at best after a night of hard travel - but Ignis’ breakfast of mushrooms and berries helped to recover some of his strength. While at their backs, behind the Walls of the city of Insomnia, the guards were probably just now discovering the prince’s empty room, he and Ignis snuck ever further away under the cover of the morning mist. 

As it turned out, they weren’t heading directly to Gralea (a fact for which Noct was greatly relieved). Instead, Ignis had arranged to meet another member of his Guild in the Cleigne metropolis of Lestallum, and from him purchase a ship to cross the sea. If nothing else, the detour would at least give Noctis more time to prolong the inevitable. 

Lestallum was a two-day march ahead on foot. But since Ignis seemed just as averse to the idea of another night camping outside as the prince did, he pilfered a chocobo from a passing farmhouse, and on they rode. By nightfall, the lights of the Disc of Cauthess (which Noct had only ever heard of in legends) were peeking over the horizon, and beyond that, their destination came into view. 

At Ignis’ direction, they left the chocobo at the edge of a clearing just outside the city. To reach the gates, they would have to climb a passage of steep stairs leading up the face of the cliff upon which Lestallum had been built. Noct gazed up at the seemingly insurmountable climb, sighed miserably, and wondered just who in their right mind had designed this place. 

A black glove on his shoulder ushered him forth. “After you, Highness. The view is even better from the top.” 

It was official: Ignis  _ enjoyed _ torturing him. Each step he climbed left his calves aching, his lungs straining for air. And all the while Ignis kept pace behind him, effortlessly as if they were merely out for a stroll. 

At last, after what seemed like half an hour of climbing, they reached the final stair. Noct threw himself over it dramatically to land on the ground on his back. “I’m dead. I can’t go on. Carry me?”

“I will do no such thing,” Ignis laughed, stepping past his limp frame. “But it has gotten late. I suppose we’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning to conduct our business here. Fancy a stay at the inn tonight?” 

That had the prince perking up - albeitly sorely - in an instant. “An inn? With real beds?” 

“And a bath, even. Which I dare say  _ you _ could use.” 

_ And whose fault is that? _ the prince squinted his eyes. Still, he allowed Ignis to pull him back up to his feet, and then together they passed through the gates into the bustling city of Lestallum. 

Unlike Insomnia, with its grey stone buildings and shadowed alleys, Lestallum was alive with light even well past sunset. The reason, Noctis discovered quickly, was the system of meteor shard lamps strung up along every street and market stall throughout the city. The people, too, were still crowding together outside of shops and restaurants, laughing, drinking, filling the streets with noise well into the night. It was such a contrast to his home, in fact, that Noctis found himself reaching out for Ignis’ arm, subconsciously walking closer to him as they moved through the throng. 

The inn was located at the end of the open air market. Its sign, spelling out  _ The Leville  _ in flowing gold-leaf script, could be seen from around the colorful array of tents and flags. The scents of exotic meats, spices, and smokes that made Noct’s head feel fuzzy followed them through the market, and from time to time Ignis glanced over his shoulder to make sure the prince was still attached. “Stay close,” he advised, keeping his voice low. “This is no place to be caught wandering alone.” 

On instinct, Noct cast his eyes around at the faces of the crowd. Everything looked, smelled, felt unfamiliar, but in that there was a thrill, as well. Between the smoke fogging his mind like a heady wine and the warmth of Ignis’ body so close to his, it was becoming difficult to keep focused. He caught the glance of one man as they passed. Didn’t miss the wink or the lingering stare there, and shifted his grip from Ignis’ arm to his wrist, and finally his hand. 

Green eyes flashed back at him in surprise, in question, but Ignis did not slow his pace. 

Once inside the Leville, the atmosphere changed again. The noise of the marketplace faded to a dull din, while the crackling fire in the hearth lent the place a more intimate mood. As Ignis made directly for the bar to inquire about renting a room, Noctis, left unattended, was free to entertain himself with observing the patrons. 

Most were men, he noticed, bent under their hoods over plates of cheese or pints of drink. A few women underdressed for the season sat together in a corner, their eyes constantly sweeping over the room even as they talked. A pair of travelers in matching wool cloaks kissed quietly near the stairs, apparently paying no mind to the audience growing at a table nearby. 

For Noctis, all of it was new. He’d never even seen a tavern from the outside back home, much less been allowed to go inside of one. As a child, he’d always imagined places like this to be filled with music and dancing, with people from far away places sharing stories of dragons and war. In reality, though many of the men and women he saw were indeed dressed in foreign garb, the air inside the tavern carried a certain tension, an element of danger. 

A hand landed on his shoulder and Noct nearly screamed. 

“It’s alright, it’s me,” Ignis whispered. Perhaps a strange sentiment coming from one’s own kidnapper, but relief flooded Noctis all the same. “Best avoid making eye contact in a place like this. Follow me.” 

He led the prince toward the stairs at the back of the inn, where the amorous couple was still locked at the lips. Noct could see now, drawing closer, that their robes had been opened between them. There was a flash of slender fingers squeezing around a full breast, pink tongues darted out to meet one another as a second hand disappeared into the shadows at their hips. A distinctly pleasurable moan lifted up into the air to follow Noctis up the stairs, and he felt his cheeks flush crimson at the sound of it. 

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, Ignis didn’t seem to have noticed anything. Without a single comment about Noct’s brightly glowing face, he ignored him completely in favor of unlocking a door at the end of the upstairs hall. It opened into a rather sparse (by his standards) bedroom: only one window, one table, one oil lamp, and one oversized steel bucket in the center of the bare wooden floor. 

Noctis sighed. It certainly wasn’t the luxurious castle suite he was used to back home, but he supposed it would do for one night. At the very least, he wasn’t being expected to sleep outside again. 

“It’s, um, nice,” he offered, hoping the smile he shot in Ignis’ direction covered the disappointed tone in his voice. “So where’s your room?”

One perfectly groomed eyebrow arched so high it might have been comical in any other situation. “ _ My  _ room?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, obviously there’s only one bed in here, and--” Realization struck him like an anvil dropping into his gut. He glanced from Ignis to the bed, to the tub of bath water, and back again, slowly processing the mix of emotions stirring inside him. He thought back to the pair downstairs - to the sounds they’d made and the sight of skin on skin - and to the looks he’d received from that man at the market. A  _ hungry _ look that had both confused and excited him, and made his breath quicken the way it was doing now. 

“Noctis…?” 

“U-um.” He was having trouble meeting Ignis’ gaze. “It’s just that, um. There’s only one bed, and I….”  _ I’ve never done this before _ , he wanted to say.  _ This is all so new, you’ll have to teach me how to…. _

“I’ll sleep in the chair,” Ignis announced, quite abruptly. While Noctis deflated like a balloon losing air, he strode past to deposit a bar of sweet-smelling soap next to the bathtub. “You can wash up while I’m gone, but try not to make a mess. They charge extra for spills.”

“W...where are you going?” 

Green eyes fell on him briefly, then pulled away again. “Back downstairs. I need information, and a tavern is the best place to get it. Stay here, and do not come out no matter what you hear. Understand?”

Obstinate, Noct shook his head. “What? No way. I’m going with you. I don’t want to be alone in a weird place like this.”

“Absolutely not.” 

“But--”

“Noctis, you are a  _ prince _ , and a missing one at that. If anyone out there were to recognize you--”

“They won’t. I’ll be careful, I promise,” he argued, tone growing impatient.  _ Don’t leave me in here, I hate being alone.  _

“Out of the question. Stay here. This is for your own good.”

He'd heard those words before. More times and with more sting to them than he cared to admit. They left his chest aching and vulnerable with an emotion he couldn’t yet put into words. It hurt.  _ Ignis _ hurt, because somehow he'd wanted to believe there was a chance to change him. He’d begun to  _ hope _ that Ignis was a good man. 

But, in the end, Ignis was no better than the father who hid him away from the world. “You’re just like him,” he said, voice flat as he hugged his coat around himself. “I’m just a  _ thing _ you can lock away in a tower until you need me. I bet you can’t wait to sell me to Niflheim so I won’t be your burden anymore. Then you’ll be rich and famous, and I’ll be dead, and then we’ll both have what we want.” 

“Noct, I--”

“It’s true, isn’t it? You said it yourself. I’m your ‘crowning heist’ so you can become the Master of the Selfish Assholes Club.”

Ignis’ eyes flashed several shades darker - in anger, or maybe in guilt. But he didn’t deny what Noctis said. He couldn’t. “Stay. Here.” 

The prince turned his back on him, gestured for him to go, and so he went.

Yet, just before vanishing through the door, Ignis wheeled back. Opened his mouth, sucked in a breath as if to say something else, then apparently thought better of it after all. His fuming exit was echoed by the sound of the key once again locking the door tight. 

The air in the room felt suddenly colder than even the wind outside. Noctis stripped out of his dirty clothes anyway. Allowed the chill air to clear his mind, and the warm water of the bath to surround him as he sank into it. Though his chest still ached, the pain allowed him to see the situation with more clarity now.  _ This isn’t Insomnia,  _ he reminded himself.  _ This isn’t even Lucis. I’m all alone here. I’ve got to escape, but…where would I go? _

That question didn’t have an answer, at least not yet. He mulled it over until his fingers and toes were wrinkled by the bath, and exhaustion had the lone bed in the room looking more tempting by the second. He found a towel and a nightshirt in a trunk against the wall. Dried off with the former before tugging the latter over his head and slipping into the sheets. Not, of course, without giving the window one quick push just to say that he’d tried. Alone, and only a little cold, he fell asleep to the din of the tavern downstairs. 

* * *

Something woke him in the darkest hours of night. He knew it was late because the inn had fallen oddly silent, not even a clink of glasses or murmuring conversation drifted up through the floorboards. Noct felt the remnants of his dream slip away as he chanced a look around the room. 

Shadows were all he could see at first. Then, dim light spilling in through the thin curtains (when had they been drawn closed like that?) illuminated the chair in the corner. His eyes adjusted further, until he could see the black fabric hanging over the back of it. A blanket? A...cloak? 

Water splashed, ever so faintly, with the movement of an arm. Noct’s breath hitched somewhere in his throat. There, in the bathtub, a pale face, high cheekbones, and sandy brown hair slicked back with soap.  _ Ignis _ . When had he come back to the room? Was he still angry after their fight? 

Was Noct? 

He made certain to keep his body still beneath the sheets, only turning his head enough atop the pillows to get a better view of the scene. Two long legs, crossed at the ankles, were propped up at one end of the tub, but even as Noct watched, Ignis began to move them. He slid his limbs through the water almost without sound, deadly, dangerous, and in that moment, breathtakingly graceful. Long fingers worked tension from the muscles of his calves, his feet, back up to his thighs, one leg at a time until Noct’s heart seemed to beat in time with the pace of it. Then he moved to his chest, his shoulders, cupping the water to his skin slowly as if he  _ knew  _ he had an audience. 

But what really caught and held the prince’s attention was when Ignis, finished with his grooming, stepped out of the tub into the shadows of the room. Naked.

Noctis pressed his lips together tight before he could give himself away. Ignis was...well, he couldn’t think of the right word to describe him in that moment. The sight of long, elegant limbs and smooth curves of Ignis’ form had the prince suddenly understanding the look a thirsty traveler might give a tall glass of cold ale. But it wasn’t only the other man’s body that had Noct watching with rapt attention. It was what  _ covered _ his body. 

Scars, dozens, maybe even hundreds of them. Some shallow, others darker, deeper, crisscrossing his back, his arms, his chest in jagged patterns. Each one told a story - of a blade, or a beast, or worse - that made Ignis who he was. Noct had judged him so harshly, yet  _ he  _ was the one who understood so little about Ignis' world. 

Part of him wondered if he ever truly could. 

In the same practiced silence with which he did everything else, Ignis dried his body and wrapped himself once more in his concealing cloak. He settled, as promised, into the chair across from the bed, his position favoring vigilance over comfort, and one hand resting against his hip where Noct knew (from personal experience) he kept his knife. 

It all seemed so...lonely. Between them, Noct could feel the distance like a physical ache. Inexplicable, but also undeniable. He thought again about the stories his father used to tell him as a child, at times like this when sleep tugged at his mind and the lids of his eyes alike. Stories about knights in shining armor, and princesses who needed to be saved from the villains who stole them away. 

Those stories, though? They’d had it all wrong. In the real world, nothing was so easy as good and evil. Noct was a prince, true, but the only thing he’d ever actually needed to be rescued from was a life he hadn’t thought worth living. And his shining knight? Maybe that was the one who’d given him the only taste of freedom he’d ever known.

_ Tomorrow _ , he yawned. Tomorrow he would talk to Ignis again. And this time, he might get up the nerve to invite him to share the bed. 


	3. Desperate Measures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting with Ignis' contact leads to an unexpected change of plans.

It was late morning by the time the sunlight shining through the window finally roused Noctis from sleep. He stretched beneath the covers - for a mattress that seemed to be stuffed with rocks instead of down, he felt surprisingly limber - and rolled leisurely onto his other side. Given the chance, he quite literally could have spent the entire day taking one extra long nap. But, as it was, both his stomach and his bladder were urging him out of bed. 

Unable to ignore them any longer, he groggily slid out of the blankets and got to his feet. 

“Ah. I was wondering when you might rejoin the living.” The voice came from the chair across the room, which Noct could see more clearly now as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Ignis smiled at him over the edge of a thin book. “How do you feel?” 

Noct considered the question, and its source. Something about Ignis seemed...different that morning, relaxed in a way that the prince hadn’t been expecting. He worried he might be walking into some kind of trap. “I’m fine. Considering.” 

Long legs uncrossed beneath the folds of black robes, and Ignis set his book aside. “You must be hungry. There’s a shop not far from here that sells roasted meat on sticks. We could try some before going to meet my contact.” 

“...We?” Noct repeated, not without suspicion. “As in, you’re letting me go with you?” 

“If you like.” 

“But aren’t you worried about someone recognizing--?” Halfway through the question, Ignis was pulling a package out of the folds of his cloak and tossing it onto the foot of the bed. 

Noct glanced at it. Frowned and picked it up, weighing it in his hands. It was light, and surprisingly soft. Some kind of clothing? At a nod he unfolded the bundle, revealing a long hooded cloak almost identical to the one Ignis always wore. 

“These are given to members who pass the trials of the Guild,” he explained as Noct tested the fabric around his shoulders. The cloak was warm and felt as smooth as butter against his skin. “The hood should be enough to conceal your face, and the reputation will do the rest. No one will be foolish enough to suspect the Crown Prince of Lucis of becoming a thief.” 

Amusement twitched in the corner of his smile. A smile which turned into laughter the second Noctis pulled the too-big cowl down over his head, and was nearly swallowed up in it. “Here. Allow me.” 

Standing in front of him now, Ignis’ hands worked the various ties and fasteners with practiced ease. Little by little, the cloak was adjusted into place, and all the while Noct couldn’t help but indulge in the distraction. Now that Ignis was so close again, dreamy visions of the night before flooded back to him. Visions of moonlight glistening off of wet skin, soft hair slicked back and graceful limbs moving in the night. Scars, too, which Noct could almost still see if he stared hard enough at Ignis’ chest. 

His cheeks were already flushing when his hood was pushed back, his chin tilted up, and his eyes drawn to meet that gaze of startling emerald. “Much better,” Ignis smiled down at him. “Now you look like you were born to wear this.” 

* * *

Properly dressed and with full bellies, it was at last time to track down whoever’d promised to sell Ignis a boat. 

Noct had no idea what to expect, of course. His interactions with the criminal underworld thus far had mostly revolved around people trying to murder or kidnap him, and thus, current company somewhat excluded, he didn’t exactly hold them in high regard. Considering also that this ‘acquaintance’ had arranged to meet them in an alleyway behind another of Lestallum’s apparently numerous pubs, Noct wasn’t getting his hopes up. 

At any rate, at least the guy turned out to be easy to spot. 

Ignis cleared his throat as they approached the alley. Ahead of them, a cloaked figure was leaning against the shadows of a stone wall with his hood drawn back. Flashes of silver danced idly back and forth between the gloved fingers of his hands. A dagger, sharp and deadly, which he swiftly pocketed when he caught sight of his guests.

To Noctis, and under his breath, Ignis uttered a warning. “Stay behind me, and whatever you do, don’t show--” 

“My face, got it,” Noct hissed in return. “I’m not stupid.” 

A tense sigh just as he raised his voice in greeting. “For Hearth.” 

“And home,” came the ready reply. The man’s voice, Noct noted, sounded exotic, with yet another accent he couldn’t quite place. “Scientia, it’s been a long time. And...you brought a friend.” Leaning closer, the man looked Noct’s half-hidden face over with appraising steel-grey eyes. “A  _ cute  _ friend. Hi, the name’s Nyx. And you are?”

Noct, uncertain, slowly reached out to shake the offered hand. He was handsome, there was no denying it, and everything from the style of his hair to the small tattoos on his face and neck spoke of far away lands and thrilling new experiences. Beside him, Ignis stiffened. “I’m not sure it’s wise to use our names here. We do not know who may be listening.” 

“Relax, Iggy.”  _ Iggy?  _ Noct’s eyebrows darted up in interest. “Lestallum is neutral ground. Our sigil is welcome here so long as we, y’know, grease the right palms.” That comment was followed by a wink in Noct’s direction, upon whom the meaning was tragically lost. 

“Be that as it may, we don’t have the time for introductions. The last time we spoke, you promised to find me a ship out of Cleigne.” 

The man - the thief -  _ Nyx _ \- kept his playful gaze locked on Noct even as he retracted his hand. “Yeah,” he shrugged. “I found you a ship. A good one, too, but it wasn’t easy. The king’s new trade restrictions are making it harder for merchants to get in and out of port without being searched.” 

“Regulations never bothered you before,” Ignis countered.

“True. But they do give me headaches.” He smirked, and the light in his eyes seemed to turn a shade darker. “And headaches cost extra.” 

“Ulric, the deal we made is not negotiable. It never was.” 

“Situations change,  _ Scientia _ . Prices go up. I’m a man of opportunity, and  _ you _ have a very valuable bid within the Council.” Folding his arms across his chest, he looked Ignis square in the eyes. “How much is that title really worth to you?” 

“Forget it. The deal is off.” 

“Oh, come on, Iggy. Three times the gold? Four? Give me something to work with at least. Or maybe your pretty friend there would like to help…? I might be willing to, say, cut you a small deal if…”

“Out of the question. Ulric, you are despicable even for a lowlife.”

“You know what they say,” he smiled congenially, spreading his hands. “No honor among thieves. I take that to heart, you know.” 

Ignis didn’t bother to justify that with a response. He was already moving, grabbing Noctis by the wrist and quite literally dragging him out into the light of the afternoon. Nyx didn’t follow them, and neither did they look back. Not until they’d crossed half the city and Noctis was sweating under his new clothes. 

“Wait, Iggy, stop.” The nickname slipped out before he could notice, but it certainly caught Ignis’ attention. He spun on his heels to find the prince fanning himself through his sleeves. “How do you wear these things all the time? Seriously, it’s like a furnace in here.”

“Do you really expect an answer to that?” The reply was short, curt even, and Ignis’ lips pressed together tight when he spoke. Clearly, he was irritated - who wouldn’t be after getting swindled by a playboy like Nyx Ulric? - but there was something else, too. Though he faced Noct, he didn’t meet his gaze. His eyes instead kept scanning the city around them, as if suddenly feeling very lost. 

Noct thought maybe he understood. “...Why didn’t you stand up to him? I thought you were, like, in charge or something. You could have forced him to sell you that boat for cheap if you’d really wanted to.”

“I’m merely a member of the Guild’s Council. I have no power over anyone.”

The prince, frowning, tilted his head to the side. 

“What, did you want me to fight him? Or take him up on the offer for a tumble with  _ you? _ ” His irritation was visible, and he only seemed to take the prince’s silence as further interrogation. “Listen, I will not give in to a...a  _ con artist _ like him. The only reason he’s fighting me is because he knew my bid for the Guild was dependent upon crossing the sea.”

“...Was?” 

For all his usual grace and elegance, Ignis looked in that moment remarkably distressed. His lips pursed, his eyebrows knotted together. And still he refused to meet Noct’s questioning gaze. “Yes, was. I...thought about what you said, last night at the inn. What you told me before about your father. I want you to know…. Well, what I mean to say is….”

But Noctis had long stopped listening. He was frozen in fear, eyes locked on the face posted on the wall beyond Ignis’ shoulder. A face which bore a terrifying resemblance to his own. Above the drawing, the word ‘ _ Missing _ ’ in bold print, and below was a plea to go to the nearest authorities with information about the Lucian prince. 

It was over. The heist was up. Scanning the plaza around them, he could now see that posters of his likeness had been put up on nearly every shop, food stall, and lamp post. It was only a matter of time now before someone at the Leville turned him in, and the Glaives came to take both him  _ and  _ Ignis back to Insomnia in chains. Panic surged through him. His mind spun with possibilities, none of them pleasant, and his body tightened with the sudden desire to run somewhere, anywhere, far away. 

Finally taking notice, Ignis followed Noct’s gaze to the poster behind him. He, too, stared for a long time, his own thoughts likely turning over the choices they had left to them now. 

“I…,” the prince fought back a sob.

“Noct?”

“I don’t want to go back.” Fear spilled out in the form of hot tears. “I don’t ever want to go back.”

“I know.” Ignis surrounded him then, not only in words but with his arms, folding them around Noct’s frame in a gesture of comfort. “And I can’t bear to take you to Gralea, either.”

“Then...where do we go?” 

Maybe there was no right answer. Ignis tore the poster off the wall, crumpled it with the heel of his boot. “We go back to the inn. From there, we can figure this out.”

“Iggy, what if they find us?”

“Keep your face covered. And stay close.”

Gloved fingers curled around his, and Noctis squeezed once in understanding. Together, they moved quickly, once again avoiding main roads, markets, wherever there were people and, inevitably, guards. Back to the Leville where a staff entrance took them through the kitchens to reach the stairs. Eyes followed them, but by the time anyone thought to get a better look, they had already rounded the hall and disappeared into their room. 

Ignis packed their few belongings into a leather satchel he’d hidden under the bed. He took the liberty of ‘borrowing’ a few things, as well - the soap, some linens, and of all things, the book he’d been reading that morning in the chair - which he tucked into his robes for safekeeping. 

Noct envied him the ability to think clearly, when in his own head there were nothing but alarm bells ringing. “S-so, what do we do? Are we staying here until tonight? Maybe we can sneak out again while its dark.”

“Staying still is too risky,” Ignis shook his head. He lifted a spoon from out of the trunk, and added it to their collection. “We’ve got to hide you, somewhere outside the city if we can reach the west gates.”

“And go where?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“But….” He wrung his hands in black fabric, unable to focus on anything but his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. “We can’t just go out there without a plan, can we? You saw the posters, Iggy - my face is all over Lestallum. Someone’s bound to recognize me. My dad's Glaives might already be on their way!" 

"There is perhaps one place…." Ignis gathered his cloak up. Checked his dagger was still at his hip, and reached out for Noct's hand. "I know I do not deserve your trust, Highness, but if you give me the chance, I should like to earn it. Will you come with me?" 

What choice did he really have? The prince accepted with his fingers atop Ignis' offered palm, and despite himself, he actually flushed when warm lips swooped down to press against his knuckles. An offer, a promise. "There's no time to waste. Let's go." 

A sudden clamor from the tavern downstairs stopped them at the door. It had sounded like a crash, followed by shouting, and then heavy footsteps marching up the stairs toward their end of the hall. Impossible…. Had the Glaives found them so quickly? Frightened blue eyes opened wide, and Noct tugged on the sleeve of Ignis' cloak. 

"There's no way out! What're we gonna do?" 

"We stay calm,” he answered. “And we make our own exit." 

Even barred shut, the window was no match for a thief like Ignis. The lock burst open just as fists began to pound on the door of the room, but by then Ignis was already helping Noct out onto the sill. They shoved the window frame back into place and escaped to the rooftop, leaving nothing behind but an empty room and no evidence they’d ever been there.

Yet the tricky part was far from over. Noct’s boots skittered over smooth clay roof tiles. He nearly lost his balance a few times, unused to moving so quickly across sloping terrain. But each time he began to fall, Ignis was there to catch him, to right him again, and to guide him onward hand in hand. Dashing between rooftops, balconies, clotheslines, they kept up the pace until they’d managed to cross at least half the city unseen by the guards.

Only then did Ignis spare a few moments for them to catch their breaths. A covered balcony nearby served as a shelter. Noctis slid down the railing to sit on the dusty floor, and tucked his knees up to his chest. He was tired. Every muscle in his body ached with exertion. Though he knew they wouldn’t have long to rest before they were forced to move again, at least for the moment his body was grateful to be still. 

“Iggy?” 

Sharp eyes busy scanning the ground below, Ignis only hummed in reply.. 

“How far to the gates?”

“Not much further now. But we’ll have to cross the main street to get there.” 

Noct’s feet throbbed in his boots at the thought. “Do we have to keep running?” 

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “There are too many people down there. Running would merely draw attention. Our best chance is to conceal ourselves within the crowd.”

_ Wearing these?  _ the prince frowned, eyeing their matching cloaks. At night, they were no doubt the perfect choice for stealth, but in the sunlight the conspicuous design would make them stick out like a couple of sore thumbs. Nevertheless, the hood was still enough to hide his face, and the guards weren’t likely to be looking for common thieves strolling around in broad daylight. Ignis was right; this was probably their best chance. 

“Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.” 

A ladder took them back to street level, where the city was bustling with more activity than ever. Carts rolled by, merchants and travelers passed both on foot and on chocobo-back, all either coming or going through the arched gates at the end of the wide road.  _ That _ , Ignis’ hand squeezing around his told him, was their destination. They were so close; they could do this. Hoods down, they slipped in with a group of fruit peddlers marching along with their carts. 

As far as last-minute plans went, this one seemed to be working without a hitch. The crowd carried them gradually towards the gates, a shifting, chaotic mass of bodies shielding them from outside view. There was nothing for Noctis to do but cling tight to Ignis’ cloak as they were swept along - if they got separated here, he likely wouldn’t get a second chance. But the gates were getting closer. They were almost free. 

From the watch tower above the arch, a horn rang out a sudden trill of fanfare. No sooner had it echoed through the plaza than the crowd was scrambling clear of the road, out of the way of the new arrival: a large, laden transport wagon, pulled up the path toward the gates by men and black-feathered chocobos alike. Surrounding it on all sides marched a horde of soldiers, strapped to the teeth in armor and bearing longswords on their backs. They were not, Noctis realized with a cold chill, his father’s Glaives. They wore the black, white and red colors of Niflheim, and their faces were masked to strike fear into the hearts of enemies. 

Enemies like  _ him _ . 

He tugged at Ignis’ cloak urgently. “I have to hide,” was all he said, and it was enough. 

Ignis was already scanning their surroundings. Walls trapped them now on both sides, and the crowds were quickly dispersing at the sight of Niff banners. It seemed they were about to be caught right in the soldiers’ path. 

Desperate times called for only one thing. 

“Put your arms around me,” Ignis whispered, overlooking the way Noct’s eyes widened on him. “ _ Quickly. _ ”

The prince’s hands found his shoulders and kept going. Ignis in turn hugged him around his waist, pulled him tight to his chest as he flattened them both against the nearest wall. His face was close - so close it nearly took Noct’s mind off everything else. Sent his heart and pulse racing faster than ever before. Ignis’ lips moved, and somewhere in the back of his mind Noct heard him ask for permission. He gave it readily. And as the sound of wagon wheels rumbled dangerously close, Noct tilted his head up to meet Ignis in a kiss. 

The heat of another mouth against his own quite literally stole the prince’s breath away. Large hands on his lower back fogged his head, made him feel as light and as dizzy as the smoke in the market had done. His panic faded to the periphery, his fingers curled on instinct in the fabric at the back of Iggy’s cloak. A swipe of tongue over his bottom lip had him going weak in the knees, and he was so grateful for the strength of the arms that held him upright. 

Eventually, the ground stopped shaking. The Niflheim soldiers marched past, into the city and out of sight of the gate. One eye open, Ignis watched it go, waiting until it was far enough out of range to drop the act. He released Noct’s waist, ready with the beginnings of an apology - but he stopped short. The prince was still gazing up at him, those deep blue eyes heavy and soft lips parted in the wake of the kiss. 

“…Noct? Noctis, they’ve gone now.”

Around them, the plaza seemed to heave a collective sigh. Tension seeped visibly out of the air, and with it the crowd was free to resume its bustling pace. Clarity returned. 

Noctis, too, blinked as if waking from a dream. 

“O-oh.” Round cheeks brightened to a telling shade of pink. “Sorry. Um. It’s just that, I mean, I wasn’t really expecting…. You’re pretty good at that.”.

“At hiding from soldiers, or kissing you?” 

More heat flared to Noct’s face. “Both.”

“Well, one is my job,” Ignis said, and adjusted his hood back into place. Next he reached for the prince’s, letting his hands linger on either side of his face even after he was done. “The other, I suppose, is excellent luck.”

No one could have resisted the opening there, least of all Noctis. He pushed himself up onto his toes to capture Ignis’ lips a second time before either could change their minds. Before fate could swoop in and snatch the exhilarating, adrenalin-fueled moment away. With escape so close within their grasp, he figured they could at least afford another few seconds of indulgence, pressed together against a dusty wall, each seeking  _ something _ in the other’s arms. 

It ended only when they finally broke for breath. Ignis, with tangible reluctance, licked at his lips as he searched for words. “...We really should be going,” he said, though he himself had yet to release Noct’s waist. “Here isn’t the place for this.” 

“Um, yeah. Of course.” 

“When we reach Meldacio, perhaps we can…?”

“Hm? Oh!” The prince shot a shy smile out from under the hair that had fallen into his face. “Definitely.” 

“Wonderful. No time to waste, then, Your Highness.” 

Just beyond the gates, they found the chocobo stables. Ignis dropped several gold coins into the master’s hands, and Noct climbed up behind him into the saddle. Arms wrapped tight, he hugged a little closer than was probably necessary to Ignis as they sped off the main road and headed out into the wilderness.


	4. Den of Thieves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noct meets both friend and foe in Meldacio, yet the only one he has eyes for is Ignis.

_ Meldacio _ . He’d thought the name had sounded familiar. Yet, though he spent much of the journey there trying to remember where he’d heard it before, it wasn’t until they’d arrived at the front gates just after sunset that realization struck. 

The entrance was a veritable fortress. Thick stone walls had been built between cliffs of natural rock, as if the city itself had been carved right out of a mountain. The gates were bars of heavy iron, reinforced with wood and steel girders that even an army would have a hard time breaking through. And all along the stone facade, warnings had been painted in what Noct could only  _ hope  _ was red paint. 

_ Down with the Empire! _ some read. 

_ We need no king!  _ others claimed. 

In the center, painted just above the gates, was a symbol Noctis knew well by now - the crossed blades and black skull sigil of the Thieves Guild. 

“Are we  _ seriously _ going in there?” he asked against the shell of Ignis’ ear. Their chocobo was padding slowly up the road, its talons clicking cautiously on the gravel path as if it could sense the danger, too. “This is even worse than Gralea! They’re going to eat me alive in there.”

“Calm down, Noctis. No one is going to hurt you.”

“You sure about that?” To emphasize his point, he gestured at a particularly bold drawing painted on the stone, captioned with the fitting words ‘ _ Death to the Caelums.’ _

Even Ignis cleared his throat uncomfortably at that one. “Listen, Noctis. The people here have nothing against you personally. They’ve lived hard lives, they’ve suffered. To them, rich nobles in luxurious castles are perfect targets for their hatred, that’s all.”

“Are we also perfect targets for weapon practice?”

“You are safe with me, I promise you.” From over Ignis’ shoulder, green eyes sought him out. “But, just in case, do you know how to wield a blade?”

Noct rolled his eyes. Growing up in the Citadel, he’d taken fencing and archery lessons like most privileged children in Insomnia did, but he'd never particularly applied himself. Something about a future trapped forever inside cold, grey walls had made learning the art of self-defense seem like a cruel joke. So, no, he wasn't exactly confident about his ability to fight off an entire city of thieves and criminals. 

Yet while the shrug he offered Iggy wasn’t actually an answer, it was probably more reassuring than the truth. 

At any rate, he elected to keep his hood up as they approached the iron gates. 

“For hearth!” The greeting came from a sentry Noct couldn’t see somewhere up above their heads. Ignis reared their chocobo to a full stop.

“And home,” he answered, suspicion thick on his tongue. “Gladiolus, is that you?”

“...Igs? Hey, welcome back! What’s with the get-up, I thought you hated riding.” A loud clanging rang out from behind the set of iron bars, like that of a chain being dragged across stone. To Noct’s amazement, the heavy gates began to swing inwards on their hinges, opening wide enough to reveal a lone figure dropping down from the rampart above. 

A man. Broad, tall, and looking like he had more muscle than two fighters combined. Tattoos traced along the length of his bared arms, up to disappear beneath the black cloak he wore thrown back over his shoulders. 

When he noticed the attention, however, his smile fell. “Woah. Who's this? Don’t tell me you picked up a new recruit while you were gone?” he said, and folded those massive arms over his chest. “Igs, you know now isn’t the right time. Until we’ve got a leader again, the Council can’t just--”

“He isn’t a recruit. That’s all you need to know.” Ignis stiffened at the array of emotions that played across the man’s broad face. First confusion gave way to surprise, then understanding, then, finally, the most shit-eating grin Noct had ever seen. 

“Oh-ho. I gotcha,  _ boss _ ,” Gladiolus winked at them both. “Total discretion from me, my lips are sealed. Can’t say the same about the rest of the lunkheads in here, though. They’ve been waiting for you to get back since the news broke.”

“News? What news?”

A deep laugh. “The two of you have been  _ that _ busy, huh? You really don't know? I'm talking about the prince, Igs. They say he’s gone missing from the Citadel.  _ Kidnapped _ , and now Niflheim is taking all the credit.”

Noct’s fingers suddenly dug tight enough into Ignis’ robes to make him flinch. “I…had heard some of that, yes.”

“Yeah? Well, you know how the boys love a good story,” Gladio continued. “Some of them even got it in their heads that  _ you’re _ the one who took the brat.” 

“Have they, now?”

“Yeah, well. I told ‘em they were nuts, but since when have they ever listened to me?” He laughed to himself, wrapping his hand in the chocobo’s reigns so first Ignis, then Noctis could dismount. “This girl knows the way home, right? You two head in, I’ll have Prompto get her all fed and cleaned up by morning.” 

“Thank you. And, Gladio?” 

A glance over his shoulder, brown eyes dark in the fading light. 

“Best not let Highwind know I’m back just yet.”

“Psh. Hate to break it to you, buddy, but, uh.” He shrugged. "She probably already knows.” 

Gladio may have missed it, but Noct, standing so close to Ignis’ side, caught the curse he swore under his breath. Who- or  _ what _ -ever this ‘Highwind’ was, it was clear they still had plenty of obstacles to face before their ordeal was through. 

Stepping into Meldacio felt exactly how Noct expected it might: like entering a dark, shady den of thieves. The only natural light filtered down through openings carved in the rock face, which he imagined wasn’t much even at the sun's peak. Now, with the day fading, most light came from candles and torches placed strategically around the streets - creating just enough shadow to go unseen if one wished. With their black cloaks and hoods, he and Ignis might have passed through the city completely invisible, had word of their arrival not already spread.. 

Unfortunately, whispers traveled faster than light in a place like Meldacio. Countless eyes followed them through the narrow streets, watching their every step in eerie silence. Noct got the feeling that, unlike that Gladio guy, not everyone in town was happy to see Ignis back. 

“How come they’re just staring at us like that? It’s really creepy.”

“Fear, perhaps. Or envy.” Though he didn’t turn around, Ignis slowed his pace so that Noctis could catch up. “Most of the ones up here aren’t full-fledged members of the Guild. They haven’t earned the right to wear these hoods.”

“Oh.” The prince frowned. Since Lestallum, he hadn't put much thought into Ignis' gift beyond its use as a disguise in crowded places. Somehow, it had failed to occur to him that the cloaks themselves held a certain value, or that there would be so many who coveted the right to wear them.

It also hadn’t occurred to him to ask Ignis where he had even gotten the thing. Now, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to know. 

The path they’d been following hit an abrupt end, at another rough-hewn wall and an iron door. This one was smaller than those at the gates, but Noctis could see from the system of dials and locks that it was designed to be far more difficult to pass through. At least, for anyone who didn’t know the combination, that was. Ignis appeared to have no trouble. And indeed, before Noct could even ask him what was on the other side, he had the door swinging open to reveal the answer. 

Stairs. Loads of them, leading so deep under the ground that the city’s lights couldn’t begin to reach the bottom. The sight left Noct feeling suddenly very parched. Were they actually going down there? 

An arm slipped around his waist. Against his ear, Ignis’ voice sounded like temptation and thrill. “Welcome to the home of the Thieves’ Guild, Highness. Do mind your step.” 

When Noctis had heard the criminal element of Eos referred to as the  _ underworld,  _ he had never imagined it might be meant literally. Descending deep into the ground to the Guild's den, he almost laughed at the irony of it. Somehow, though, he didn't think Ignis would appreciate the joke as much as him. 

Eventually, the stairs gave way to a much flatter hallway, lit with torches along its grey brick walls. Here and there, passages blocked off by grated doors or boarded up with planks told Noct that there was an entire city at work beneath Meldacio. Sewers connected to caverns connected to waterways, like a web that allowed thieves to travel vast distances quickly, and undetected. 

It was actually quite impressive. He couldn't help but wonder if a similar network ran beneath the streets of Insomnia, unbeknownst to his father. Secret passages under the Walls and right up into the Citadel, maybe? He glanced at Ignis in the dim light. It would certainly explain a lot. 

Their path brightened as the pair came to the end of the corridor. Beyond, Noct could see a large circular room made of stone and brick, with a raised platform surrounded by brackish water in the center. Moss and lichen hung from the tops of the walls, and the constant  _ drip, drip _ of some unseen source told Noctis they were probably still connected to the sewers. Nice place for an office.  _ Real  _ nice _.  _

"You know, you guys might have a better reputation if you didn't hang out in dark, creepy places like this all the time," he commented to Ignis, who merely smirked and swatted him on the backside. 

"Easy to say from the top of a castle looking down." 

A playful grin in retort. "Says the guy who's trying to  _ top _ m--"

"Well, well, well. Look what the rats finally dragged in." A woman, tall and lean with silver hair pleated down the length of her back, appeared as if out of the shadows themselves. “Did you take the scenic route?” 

She stalked towards them, steely green eyes first taking in Ignis' state - mussed robes, mud-caked boots, the grime of travel on his cheeks - then appraising Noctis in turn. She smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "So, let me guess. A scheming sneak-thief and his new beau? Or is there more to this scrawny pretty-boy than meets the eye?" 

"Highwind. Nice to see you, as always." 

"Scientia." 

Noct watched the icy exchange between them, gears turning slowly beneath his hood. Ignis had said Highwind's name at the gates, but he hadn't imagined she'd be so, well,  _ hot _ . In a totally hangs-out-in-sewers, stabs-you-in-your-sleep kind of way. He felt her gaze roving over him again and, gulping, he clutched at Ignis’s arm. 

“Excuse me if I don’t introduce my friend just yet. I was hoping to convene a meeting first, actually.” Ignis swept his hand around the well-lit chamber. “I’d like to address  _ all  _ of the Council at once. You understand”

“It’s all by the books with you, isn’t it?” With a sigh, Highwind muttered something under her breath. She turned on one of her impressive heels and stalked across the chamber to a grated-covered window. “Biggs! Wedge! Round up the boys, wouldya? If anyone gives you lip about it, tell ‘em Scientia’s the one they can blame.”

This time, the smile she shot Ignis’ way was full of devious mirth. 

* * *

In total, the Council of the Thieves’ Guild consisted of five members. Ignis was one, though he chose to stand at Noct’s side instead of with his brethren across the platform. That, of course, was were Highwind had taken up position, with her two friends, Biggs and Wedge, standing dutifully at her back. 

Beside her was an old man, possibly the oldest one Noct had ever seen. He stood hunched under a fraying grey cloak instead of black, the same color of his hair and almost as pallid as his skin. But his eyes - Noctis noticed those were still a sharp, sapphire blue. The moment the old man had hobbled into the chamber, propped up on the arm of his tall, blond, and very buxom granddaughter, he’d taken one look at Noctis and laughed like he’d just found his lost marbles. “Well, slap my ass an’ call me a tanned Dualhorn hide in summer. This meetin’ just got a little more in’erestin’.” 

Following this rather unnerving performance had been a more familiar face - Gladiolus, the guard from the front gates. He’d brought another young man with him, one who appeared closer to Noct’s own age, and with a tuft of chocobo-yellow hair set above a freckle-spattered face. Gladio’s friend glanced at Ignis, then at Noct, and waved shyly. Noct couldn’t help but wave back. 

The fifth member said nothing when he arrived. Instead of a black hood, he wore a rather conspicuous beveled hat over his auburn hair, and his smile (when he flashed it) was somehow even more unsettling than Highwind’s had been. Last to arrive, he took a seat on a wooden crate atop the platform, and folded his arms while he listened to what Ignis had to say. 

“Council. I appreciate you coming on such short notice,” he began. Noct noticed he mostly fixed his attention on Gladio and the young blond when he spoke. Friendly faces in a room full of thieves. “My arrival is both delayed and perhaps premature, but if you’ll allow me to apologize” 

“I think you owe us a lot more explanation than that, Ignis. Last time you were here, you promised the scam of the century, didn’t you?” Smirking, Highwind spread her arms and looked around at the empty room for effect. “Well, what have you brought us besides a pretty face to warm your own bed?” 

“E-excuse me, that’s what I’m trying to--” 

“Lady Aranea’s got half the gold from the Galdin Quay vaults in a store room in the back,” one of the men standing behind Highwind cut in. “Her bid for the Guild is already secure. What’ve you got to show us?” 

“Gentlemen,  _ please _ . I’ll admit it.” Ignis paused for a moment, gathering himself, and Noct sucked in a deep breath. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but he knew that if Ignis was going to turn him in, now was the perfect opportunity. 

But he would never...would he? 

“When I last left here, my mission was too delicate to reveal even to the council. I had hoped that when I returned, it would be in success rather than failure. But...my mission ran into a couple of….”

“Snags?” Gladio offered. 

“Bumps?” his blond friend chimed in helpfully. 

“Pretty blue eyes?” Aranea Highwind smirked. 

To Noct’s surprise, and all of theirs, Ignis nodded. “Exactly. I’ve decided  _ not  _ to proceed with the heist as planned. I came here...to tell you all that I failed."

Noct’s heart sank. Not for himself, but for Ignis, and for the heaviness in his voice as he was forced to admit defeat. Was...he really okay with this? Did he really have to choose between his dreams and Noct’s life?

“Hah! I knew it!” Aranea clapped her hands together, earning her several dark looks from around the room. “Guess that makes me the only one with a bird in this race anymore. It was nice doing business with you, Scientia. Let me know if you ever want to forfeit the rest of your career to me, too.” 

The old man grumbled something to his granddaughter behind him, and whatever he said had her snapping her fingers in excitement. “Wait a second, Paw Paw, that’s right! Ignis isn’t out of the bid yet. Tradition states he’s got until the new moon to prove himself for the title.” She looked directly at Highwind, a hint of apology in her smile. “Sorry, Nea, but them’s the rules.”

Her face fell, but only for a moment. Highwind quickly composed herself, folded her arms over her chest, and shrugged in an almost convincing way. “Fine. I’m still up for the challenge. Not like I’d back down now, anyway.” 

In surprise, Ignis glanced over his shoulder at Noctis to see the prince was grinning. Maybe he still had a chance to help make this right, after all. 

"Now that business is settled," the man seated at the end of the council, who had until then appeared to be sleeping with his head bowed beneath his hat, spoke up. His face lifted, and yellow-gold eyes fixed right on Noct. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” 

“Ah. Yes. Of course.” A pause. Ignis cleared his throat. Then he cleared it again. Noctis realized quickly that whatever he’d been  _ planning  _ to say to the council was no longer an option, and he was struggling to come up with a Plan B. “Yes, uh, this charming young man is, ah, well. He’s my--” 

“Apprentice,” Noct half-shouted. Ignis’ eyes flew open wide, as did most of the other’s across from him. “Yeah, uh. I’m his apprentice. Or, y’know, whatever it’s called with you guys.  _ Us _ guys. I want to join the Guild, is what I’m trying to say.” 

Gladio’s eyebrows waggled, and he nudged the blond behind him as if to say, ‘ _ See, told you!’  _

The only one who was making a face more sour than Ignis’ was Highwind herself. “So you’re telling us that Ignis -  _ Ignis Scientia _ \- has named you his Shadow?” 

Blue eyes blinked. “Um. Yes. That.” 

“Anak shit,” she huffed, throwing her hands in the air again. Beside her, the old man’s sharp eyes twinkled. 

“Well, I think it’s marvelous. It’s been far too long since we’ve had fresh blood around here.” Guy-in-the-hat flashed a grin with far too many teeth, and Noct could only hope he hadn’t meant that literally. “What is your name, boy?”

“Um it’s Noct--” A panicked look from Ignis had him biting his tongue. “...Gar. Noctgar. Uh. It’s foreign.” 

Alright, so maybe that had been a stretch, and maybe he was getting in way too far over his head here. They’d put him on the spot, and he’d somehow managed to stick his foot right in his mouth with his answer. Ignis was glaring at him like he would have preferred he just reveal he was the missing Lucian prince. The others were muttering to each other like they couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Only the odd man, now scratching thoughtfully at the stubble on his chin, seemed amused. 

“Noctgar,” he all but purred, and Noct couldn’t help but shudder. “I for one very much look forward to putting you to the test.”

From the other end of the council, Aranea Highwind was losing interest. She let out a long, exaggerated yawn. “Well, I say It can wait ‘til tomorrow. I’ve got a new office to start decorating, and most of you could use the extra beauty sleep. Scientia, if your pretty little flunky is still here in the morning,  _ you _ can run him through the ropes.” 

“You heard Cindy, Highwind. You’re not in charge yet.”

“‘ _ Yet’,” _ she repeated with a playful smile, and turned from the room with both Biggs and Wedge on her heels. In their wake, the man in the hat took his leave as well, with a flourishing bow and a grin that left Noct vaguely nauseous. Behind him went the old man (who looked as if he needed a nap) and his granddaughter (who was laughing good-naturedly at his cranky grumbling).

That left only two. Already, the blond kid who’d spent the meeting standing behind Gladiolus was rushing over, his face bright with excitement. “Welcome to Meldacio, Noctgar! It’s so great to have another new Shadow here!”

He brushed both hands on the front of his cloak - which, Noct now noticed, was covered in a fine layer of dirt - and offered one of them out in greeting. “My name’s Prompto, but you can call me Prom. I’ve been Shadowing Gladio now for a few months.”

“O-oh, that’s cool,” Noctis guessed. One look between them - at the way Gladio hovered close behind the kid, keeping him constantly within arm’s reach - he got the feeling that ‘shadowing’ meant a hell of a lot more than a simple apprenticeship. 

“So where are you from? Me, I was born in Niflheim, but I ended up in Lucis kinda by accident after my parents died.” The kid - Prompto - laughed like that somehow wasn’t a lot to unpack at once. “You said you’re foreign, right? Are you from Cartanica? Ooo, or Altissia!” 

“Geez, kid, cut the new guy a break.” 

Gladio swung an arm around Prompto, tugging him back against his own chest. Perhaps not surprisingly, Prom seemed just as content to be there as he was fawning over Noct. “A Shadow, eh, Igs? Never thought you were the type.” 

Ignis narrowed his eyes directly at the prince when he answered. “Neither did I.” 

“Well, I think it’s great. It’s about time.” 

Prompto nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Hey, Noctgar - can I call you Noct? You should swing by the stables tomorrow. I can give you some tips, if you want, and you can see off that pretty chocobo you brought in today, too.” 

“Um. Yeah, thanks, Prom. I’ll do that.” 

Practically beaming, Prompto opened his mouth to say more when a large hand suddenly clamped down over it. “Hey, bird-brain. Let’s give these two a little time to get settled in, yeah?” A nod, as Prompto’s blue eyes twinkled with something suspiciously soft. “I’m on gate duty all night. You need anything, you know where to find me.” 

“...Yes, Gladio. Thank you.” 

“Then, you two have a good night.” There was meaning in the look he shot Ignis, but Noct didn’t have time to read into it. Both Gladio and Prompto turned to leave the meeting hall, back up the stairs the way they’d come. 

In the silence they left behind, Ignis released a deep, long-suffering sigh

* * *

“Noct  _ Gar _ ? Are you out of your mind?” 

The door had slammed closed behind them in the bedroom. Well, calling it a bedroom may have been a bit of an exaggeration. There was  _ a  _ bed, yes, and some shelves and a trunk case, but it hardly had the homey feel he was used to back in Insomnia. Noct looked from Ignis to the thick blankets that covered the bed, then back again. “What? It worked, didn’t it?” 

Ignis, it seemed, wasn’t interested in that aspect of the situation. “If you believe for a second that those thieves out there trusted a word you’ve said to them, then you’re even less competent than I’d thought.” 

“Ouch, Iggy. Rude. I told you before, I’m not afraid of this place.” Shucking off his borrowed cloak, Noct draped it over the edge of a nearby shelf. Then came his shirt, and his boots, until he was standing half naked in the middle of the room. “Gladio had already suggested it, and I guess it was the first thing that popped into my head. Besides, we’ve got time to think about it now. We don’t have to worry until tomorrow.”

“Noctis….” Ignis was still on the annoyed sigh of angry, but the sight of Noct’s bare chest seemed to be working as a perfect distraction in the moment. He took a step forward, nearly closing the gap between them, and stroked his fingers over the prince’s shoulder. “Do you have any idea what you’ve gotten yourself into? You’ve claimed to be my  _ Shadow _ ,” he sighed again, when Noct wasn’t following. “They’ll expect you to undertake the Trials now.”

“Listen, Iggy. You’re gonna have to start making sense. All this business with shadows and stuff…what exactly does it mean?” He thought about Prompto, about how close he and Gladio appeared to be, and the way Gladio’s hands had lingered on the blond’s body. How Ignis’ hand was lingering on his arm now, fingers barely touching him and impossible to ignore. 

A frown. “Noctis, I…. Perhaps it’s better you let Prompto explain tomorrow.” 

“Why?”

“It’s not…. I never intended to take on a Shadow, I’m not exactly practiced with….” 

The prince’s fingers closed around Ignis’ hand on his arm. Gently, slowly brought it over to his chest, where the pressed the palm flat against his bare skin. He saw the intake of breath, felt Ignis’ heartbeat through his fingers, and his own sped up in turn. “Tell me. Please.” 

Where words failed, Ignis opted for  _ other _ methods of explanation. He leaned forward, brushing against Noct’s lips in a question. But the prince was ready this time. He met him eagerly in the kiss, taking them both back to the dusty streets of Lestallum and the singular focus of lips, hands, and shuddering breaths. Ignis’ fingertips ghosted first up, then back down the length of Noct’s chest, his sides, around to his back where he could more easily pull him into his arms. 

They stood like that, in the center of Ignis’ private room, wrapped together while their mouths explored new boundaries. Noctis’ chest fluttered to feel Ignis’ tongue push past his lips, deeper into his mouth to taste him. He permitted him in, opened wider for him and moaned softly for more. He didn’t want it to stop, not this time. And, as Ignis’ hands trailed down to tease at the hem of Noct’s breeches, it seemed he wasn’t planning on hitting the brakes either. 

The kiss broke only for a moment - Noctis sucked in a lungful of air, head spinning - and Ignis took the opportunity to move them both to the bed. One hand hooking under Noct’s leg, he lowered the prince onto the thick duvet before following him down on top. 

The new position thrilled Noct in entirely unexpected ways. He could feel Iggy’s weight now where his hands sunk into the mattress. He shivered as hot lips tucked into the side of his neck, kissed him fervently, leaving tingling marks in his wake. The bed creaked as he moved lower, leaving Noctis pinned beneath him as he kissed, nipped, licked at every inch of his skin from his throat down to his navel. His teeth grazed Noct’s hip and the prince arched off the bed, caught off guard at how strongly he felt each and every touch. “Iggy!” 

“I’ve got you, Noctis.” His breath was a puff of hot air against shivering skin. Noct’s belt was carefully undone, then the top button of his pants. “You can trust me.”

He did.  _ Gods _ , he did, whether or not it was wise. He trusted Ignis, he  _ wanted  _ Ignis. He’d never been happier to have been kidnapped from his tower home, and brought out into the wide world to experience so much in so short a time. There was not a chance he was going to let go of that now. 

So, with a nod, he gave himself over to Ignis completely. He allowed Ignis to take care of him, gently sliding his pants down the length of his thighs, and finally off. More kisses distracted him from the cool air, kisses pressed to his hip, his thigh, to the erection straining in the front of his undergarments. Those, too, went the way of his other discarded clothes, until he was fully exposed to the room, and Ignis could drink in the view. 

“You’re incredible, Highness,” he whispered, as if anything louder might break the spell. “Exquisite. A perfect treasure. Priceless.” 

The prince breathed a weak laugh through his nose. “You’re not half bad yourself, y’know.” 

That compliment earned him a breathtaking reward, in the form of Ignis’ tongue dragging up the underside of his cock. Gasping, Noct threw his hands down to his lap on instinct, found soft brown locks there and held on as another burst of pleasure rippled through him. The warmth of Ignis’ mouth surrounding him was more perfect than he could have imagined. His eyes fluttered closed, and he focused on the intensity of the heat pooling in his gut. “Iggy….  _ Mmm!” _

A low moan vibrated around him in answer. Ignis slid his lips down to the very base of his length, tightened them there and used his tongue to continue blowing the prince’s mind instead. Swirling it, plying it against the throbbing vein along the underside, dipping it into the slit at the head - white stars shot through Noct’s vision with each new trick. Before long, his body was taking over where his fuzzy mind could not. His hips rolled up off the bed in a telling rhythm, seeking more heat, more  _ Ignis _ each time. Faster and faster, his breathing turning more erratic as his muscles began to quake. 

“Iggy…! Iggy...don’t stop….” 

It was as much a warning as it was a plea. He felt the wet channel of Ignis’ throat once more swallowing him back, and that was all it took. Noct’s fingers clenched and he jerked up, lower back coming off the mattress, to spill over into receptive heat. For a long, breathless moment he felt suspended, pleasure firing through every one of his nerves at once. And then, with a final gasp, he dropped back onto the bed utterly spent. 

Ignis released him. He dragged the back of his hand across his slick lips, and made to sit on the edge of the mattress. Green eyes smouldered, their gaze roving over Noct’s bare body in a slow appraisal, as if he could plunder the sight of him with nothing but his eyes, tuck it away in his memory. A stolen treasure he’d keep only for himself. “Are you alright, Noctis?”

“Mm.” Still tingling, he managed a nod. “‘M good. Iggy?”

“Yes, darling?” 

Pale cheeks flushed a soft pink. “I… Thank you. That was...wow.”

“Your first?”

“...That obvious?” 

Ignis allowed himself a chuckle, and at last removed his cloak from around his shoulders. Beneath, his high-collared black tunic and loose pants left far too much of him covered for Noct’s liking. “Here. Under the blanket, you’ll catch cold like that.” 

“But Iggy?” The prince cut himself off with an unexpected yawn. His limbs felt suddenly heavy, weighed down with the aftermath of climax and the exertion of their days of travel. As Ignis drew the blankets up to his chin, he found it increasingly difficult to pout. “What about you?”

“Hush. I'm fine.” Though not exactly what he had in mind, Ignis  _ did _ concede to join him beneath the covers. Still fully clothed, but also warm, and extremely tender as he wrapped Noct’s bare frame in his arms. 

The prince turned over his shoulder to seek out perfect lips in a kiss. “Iggy….” 

“Rest. You have a long day ahead of you.”

“But--”

Again he yawned, much to his frustration, but it was becoming difficult to fight. Sleep was winning out over desire. “Igs….”

Ignis appeased him with a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. Warm, safe arms tightened around his waist. The candle beside the bed was blown out, and shadows swept in to fill the room. 

_ Shadows _ . Into the pillow, Noct smiled.  _ He was Ignis’ Shadow.  _

But more than that, he was definitely, without a  _ shadow _ of a doubt, in love.  __


	5. Enemies at the Gates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Council puts Noctis to the test, while a new challenge comes knocking on Meldacio's front doors.

He’d been dreaming about something. A fleeting, comforting vision that left him warm inside and out as he chased it through the early hours of morning. It reminded him of another place, of the color green and calming light. And even in his sleep, a name began to form on the very tip of his tongue. 

_ Ig...ni…. _

“Rise and shine, Highness.” 

The bundle that landed unceremoniously in his lap woke Noct with a start. Gasping, he sat up in bed - only to be hit in the face by a flying blanket next. He sputtered, flailed his arms (ultimately tangling himself more) until he managed to free enough of his face to shout, “What the  _ hell _ , Iggy?!”

Across the room, Ignis was waiting with his hands on his hips. Already fully dressed, Noctis noted. That was unfortunate. 

“In case you’ve forgotten, you’ve somehow managed to convince the Guild that you’re serious about this. They’ve gathered at the training grounds, and have summoned you personally to begin your test.” 

“...Test?” It was too early. Noct wasn’t used to being woken up - particularly so rudely - before noon. And certainly not to go outside and face some sort of test. “But I didn’t study.” 

“Perhaps you should have considered that sooner.” There was no amusement in Ignis’ tone, no hint of the loving, tender man who had lain in bed with him the night before. 

“You’re kind of an asshole in the morning, you know that?” 

“Clothes. Now.” 

Most of the council was already waiting for them by the time they arrived topside in Meldacio. Aranea, of course, and the hat guy (Izunia, Noct thought they’d called him) as well as Cindy, looking unusually somber in her grandfather’s place. Neither Gladio nor Prompto were there, the prince noticed with a pang. He’d been hoping for a little bit of sympathy from  _ someone _ . 

A clearing of space beneath a rocky overhang served as their meeting space that morning. Once again, the Guild members stood together along one side, while Noct was paraded into the center like an object on display before an auction. 

Only this time, Ignis left him there alone to join his fellow thieves. He tried not to let his hurt show. 

“For Hearth,” came the call from Highwind, who stood with her hands behind her back. 

“And home,” the rest answered. Then, silence as all of them turned to him expectantly. Waiting.

Ignis cleared his throat.

“Oh! Uh, s-sorry,” Noct said, scrambling. “For home! Still, uh, still half asleep over here.” 

“Do you know why you’ve been summoned here, pretty boy?” When the prince shrugged, Highwind exchanged a haughty look with the others, and continued. “To be made a Shadow is easy, but if you ever  _ really _ want a chance at making it big here, you’ve got to prove yourself to  _ us _ .”

“Think yer up for the challenge, kid? We won’t go easy on ya, y’know.” 

Somehow, Cindy’s supportive smile had him feeling a little less like the world was against him. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready. What do I have to do?”

The third council member - once again choosing to forego the traditional hood in favor of his simple black hat - spoke up in answer. “First, a test of knowledge. Information is the most powerful weapon one can possess in our line of work. Know everything, forget nothing. This is the way of the thief.”

“What he’s saying is, we're gonna ask you three questions. Get them right, and you pass.” 

“Get ‘em wrong,” Cindy added, with a hint of dark humor. “And Nea here will see you never find the way back to this place.” 

_ O...kay.  _ That sounded kinda terrifying, but also, it was only three questions, right? How bad could it be? “Cool. Got it. Shoot.”

“Wait a moment,” Ignis cut in suddenly. “As his Advisor, I feel I should be the one to test him. After all, I know him best, and I know the extent of his training.”

The others exchanged looks. “And that’s exactly why  _ we’ll _ be conducting this session. You said it yourself, Scientia. You  _ know  _ him.”

“Highwind, the rules state --”

“First question, kid.” Aranea leaned her weight on her right leg, folding her arms confidently across her chest. "Who is the patron Astral of the Thieves' Guild?" 

Oh! He was pretty sure he knew this one! Noct thought back to that first night outside of Insomnia, spending the night with Ignis under the stars. Though half asleep at the time, he recalled listening to Iggy stories about gods in the constellations. "The answer's Leviathan, right? Pirates used to pray with her before battles at sea, and the tradition carried over to thieves, as well." 

"Huh. Not bad, Noctgar. Not bad.” 

Aranea stepped aside as Cindy took over the next question. “Alright, then. My family’s been makin’ weapons for the Guild as far back as we can remember. We infuse the blades with a special kind of ore. Any idea what it is?" 

This time, Noct’s mind went blank. He could so easily picture Ignis' blade, a flash of light in the dark. He remembered, too, the way the cool metal had felt pressed to his skin. But the material...? He didn’t think Ignis had ever mentioned that 

"U-um. Is it steel? Or silver?" 

"A dagger made of  _ silver _ ? Hah! What have you been teaching this boy, Scientia?" Highwind laughed. 

"Fine. I shall ask him the final question. There are no rules against it, I assure you." Ignis strode forward purposefully. Circled around Noctis once, and came to a stop at last directly between him and the rest of the Council. Noct could feel those eyes looking at him, looking  _ into  _ him, and the implication sent the hairs on his neck standing at attention. "My question is a practical one. You find yourself cornered, no way out and with the enemy closing in on all sides. If they capture you, you will hang.”

This...wasn’t sounding very much like a question yet. Noct swallowed. 

“In the face of danger and seemingly impossible odds, what do you - a thief worthy of this Guild’s reputation - choose to do?”

Okay. Okay, he could work with this. They’d been in this exact situation plenty of times over the last few days. More times than he cared to admit, actually. And yet Ignis had always gotten them out of harm’s way, hadn’t he? Noct snapped his fingers. “Counter question. Do I have anyone nearby to kiss?”

“Er, no. You’re alone.” 

“In that case, I’d make my own exit. Through a window, over a wall, onto a roof. There’s always an escape if you’ve been paying enough attention.”

The subtle curve in the corner of Ignis’ mouth meant he approved. Wordlessly, he turned around to face the council. Noct’s answer, it seemed, spoke for itself.

“Alright, Scientia, you’ve made your point. It’s clear the boy isn’t a complete idiot.” 

“Ah. But actions speak louder than words, if you ask me.” Ardyn Izunia, quite obviously pleased with the murmur of agreement from the other council members, bowed his head in mock sympathy. “He’ll still need to prove his mettle in the Trials, I’m afraid.”

_ The Trials _ . Somehow, in his ignorance, Noct had simply assumed that the questions he’d just been answering  _ were _ the Trials, or at least the start of them. Had this all been their idea of a game? A way to watch him trip over his feet before he could even stand? Well, fine. If they expected him to fail so easily, he’d just have to do his best to prove them all wrong.

“Right. I’m ready for your tests. When do I start?” 

Again, Aranea took the liberty of answering him. “Since Ignis is your Advisor, he’ll be the one judging the first Trial. The time and location are up to him. Personally, though, I think he’s got bigger problems to worry about right now.  _ If _ he still intends to challenge me for the Guild, that is.”

“You  _ both _ have bigger problems.” Deep, rough, and deadly serious, the voice caught them all off guard. It belonged to none other than Gladio, who marched right up next to Noct with an urgency that belied his composure. “There are generals outside the gates. Three of them, all from Niflheim, and all leading armed men.”

“Niflheim? What the hell is Aldercapt thinking, sending an army  _ here _ ?” 

Gladio settled his deep brown eyes on Aranea. “They’re insisting on meeting with the head of the Guild. Apparently they, uh, don’t get much news in Gralea.”

“Except,” Ardyn hummed thoughtfully. “About things that go missing from Lucis. You know,  _ I  _ heard they’ve claimed to have stolen the Crown Prince right out from under King Regis’ nose. Perhaps they’ve come to make some kind of trade?” 

Cindy shook her head. “That don’t make no sense. What would we need a prince for?”

Noct couldn’t tell, but he thought, for just a moment, that Ardyn’s too-wide smile was cast directly on him. Blood turned to ice in his veins. His feet seemed to freeze to the ground. One slip up, that’s all it would take, and they’d turn him over to the enemy at the gates. It’d be as good as stringing him  _ and _ Iggy up for the slaughter. 

Ignis, sensing his rising panic, took the opportunity to shift the Council’s attention. “Whatever their purpose, it’s bad manners to keep a guest waiting. We should at least go to greet them at the gates, don’t you think?” 

“Who’s ‘we,’ Scientia?” Aranea spat. “They said they wanted to talk to the one in charge, and last time I checked, that wasn’t you.”

“Nor you,” he countered. “We are still a broken faction, but  _ they  _ do not know that. We should address them as a unified council to show strength.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’ll be taking my leave now.” Ardyn swept off his hat into a low bow. “The military type tend to get under my skin, you understand.” 

Throwing her hands in the air, Aranea looked from Ignis to Gladio, then back at Noct. With everything slipping out of her control, all she could do was focus on the one problem she thought she could solve. “What do we do about the brat, then?”

“ _ My  _ brat,” Ignis corrected. “I’ll ask you to watch your tone.”

“Um.” Name-calling aside, Noct didn’t want to be caught up in the middle of the argument he could feel brewing. Yet he also knew he needed to get as far out of sight from the gates as possible, and fast. The first plan that sprung into his head was the one he ran with. “Prompto’s gonna need help in the stables, right? I could lend him a hand.”

“Brilliant idea.”

“Hm…. Fine by me. Stinks of work ethic, though.”

“Better hurry it up then, kid. We’ve got to get those gates open.” 

Gladio gestured in the general direction of the chocobo stables (not that Noct couldn’t smell them a mile away) and then he was taking off, hoping to get behind solid walls before they decided to let the Niff soldiers inside. His boots flew over the hard ground. Faster and faster, until at last Prompto’s unmistakeable updo came into view ahead. 

The moment the blond noticed Noct barreling towards him, he straightened in greeting. 

"Hey, Noct, buddy! Did you come to-- w-woah! Slow down--!" 

The chocobos warked and flapped their wings, startled by the commotion as he charged head first into the stables. He threw himself behind a wooden post - thankfully out of sight of the road - and sank down against it to the floor. Distantly, he could hear voices barking orders over the clinking of armor.  _ Great. Just perfect.  _ They’d escaped Lestallum in time to land themselves right in the middle of a Niflheim brigade march! But since when had the Empire grown so bold as to journey this close to Lucian borders? And in open daylight, even? An uneasy feeling sank in Noct’s gut, right beside his sudden concern for Ignis out there dealing with them face to face. 

Fingers waving in front of him dispelled the cloud of his thoughts. "Yoo-hoo? Noctgar? You alright there?" Prompto leaned on his muckrake and frowned. "Scared me running in here like that. What's going on?" 

Still catching his breath, Noct attempted a weak smile. "N-nothing. They, uh, said some visitors were coming, sent me over to give you a hand with the chocobos. Or something." 

"Oh, wow, guess today's my lucky day, then! Here, you're gonna need this." Noct barely got to his feet before the handle of the rake was being pushed towards him. Followed by a heavy bag of something as lumpy as it was foul smelling -  _ Gyshal greens _ , the label read - and a pair of leather gloves on top. "Usually no one wants this job, so I'm glad for the extra hands. Mind prepping the stables while I get some leads ready?" 

"U-uh." Noct started to suck in a breath, then thought better of it as he eyed the bag of feed in his arms. Instead, he answered with an unconvincing nod. 

Most princes in other parts of the world probably knew at least a little something about chocobo riding and stable care. But he’d never learned those things within the cramped walls of Insomnia, and so he admittedly had no clue where to even start. Nevertheless, Noct was happy for the excuse to look busy. Ducking inside one of the empty stalls with his tools, he deposited the bag of feed in one corner and set to work. 

Straw and mud (at least, he  _ hoped _ it was mud) caked the floor under his boots, so he started there. He dragged the rake across the wooden planks, gathering bits of matted straw into a small pile. Then he did the same on another section. Maybe this was going to be easier than he’d thought. Moving idly around the stall, Noct let his hands take over the physical work while he focused on catching a glimpse of the scene outside. 

From his vantage point (through a gap between the planks of the wall), he could make out the largest doors of Meldacio’s gates being drawn open. A blast of horns echoed from beyond them to announce the generals’ entrance.  _ Pfft.  _ Niflheim pomp and formality was even worse than back home, Noct sneered. But he continued to watch anyway, body tense with anticipation as he waited for the soldiers to march into view. 

“Uh, need some help there, Noct?” 

Startled, he nearly whacked the rake right into Prompto in his hurry to whirl around. The blond side stepped easily, grinned, and set down the armful of fresh straw he’d been carrying. “Don’t worry, it’s just me. Ifrit’s horns, you’re jumpy today.” 

“Sorry. I, uh, had a long night.” A lame lie, but the first one he could think of, and Prompto seemed to buy it nonetheless. There was a hint of humor in his eyes when he reached out to take the rake from Noctis. 

“Yeah, I bet. Being a Shadow is  _ hard _ work sometimes. Here, spread the hay around a bit more, like this.” Noct watched as Prompto demonstrated the task, somehow making flipping and twisting the rake look exceedingly easy. His blue eyes continued to smile even while he worked. “So. Can I ask how it was, or did Ignis swear you to secrecy?”

Noises like the stomping of heavy boots outside the stables threatened to distract Noct from the conversation. “Huh? How what was?” 

“Uh, hello? The sex, of course.”

Well,  _ that _ brought him crashing back to the present. Prompto almost certainly noticed the flare of heat to his cheeks and, mistaking it for modestly, laughed the question off. “Fine, fine, I won’t ask for details. Your face says it all anyway.  _ Heh.  _ Trust Ignis to find a Shadow just as tight-lipped as he is.” 

Though Prompto was still hard at work, now tossing straw in effortlessly symmetrical batches around the stall, Noct was standing as if paralyzed. His suspicions about the nature of a Shadow’s relationship with their ‘Advisor’ had apparently been right. “Do all Shadows have to...y’know?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Is that a requirement?” 

Prompto shrugged. “It’s not for everyone, no. Some Shadows are family, like Cindy and her grandpa Cid, and some just aren’t into sex, y’know? It really depends on the chemistry.” 

“But, if it’s not necessary, why do it at all?”

The look he was given almost made him regret asking. “ _ Why _ have sex? Really? Please tell me Ignis wasn’t that bad.” 

“O-oh, um.” Flustered, Noct looked down at his boots, which were suddenly incredibly interesting. He didn’t want to tell Prompto that he and Ignis hadn’t  _ actually _ slept together, but then he’d have to admit to more than a few truths. “N-no, it’s not that. I just meant what’s the purpose? How does it make someone a better thief?”

“Ohh. Well, it isn’t about training, I guess. It’s about the bond.” Prompto’s smile was mirrored in the bright blues of his eyes. “Before I met Gladio, I was working in a brothel in the Crown City. Sex was different, then. Just a job, kinda like raking up chocobo poop. But with him, when there’s trust and this warm feeling in my chest, it’s like…. It’s like everything makes sense. Like the heavens move for us.”

“Three or four times a night. Right, babe?” 

This time, Prompto was just as surprised as Noctis when Gladio waltzed unannounced into the stables. He was grinning from ear to ear, evidently having eavesdropped on enough of their conversation to catch the good parts, as he led two black chocobos in full Niflheim armor towards a stall. “Sorry, I never miss a chance to brag. C’mon, you left that wide open for me, Prom,” he smirked, elbowing his Shadow in the side. 

Prompto smoothly ignored him. “Aren’t these Niflheim warbirds?  _ Whew _ , they must be exhausted in those get ups. Noct, mind giving Gladio a hand? I’ll take over the stalls, it’ll be faster that way.”

“Oh, um, thanks. Sorry.” Noct felt a little guilty - it was because of his slacking that Prompto had more work, after all - but the blond’s smile was enough to set him more at ease. He hooked the leads Gladio held out for him around a nearby post, and together they began unfettering the birds. 

Lifting the first of the saddles, the prince gradually let his curiosity get the better of him. “Whoever rode in on these must be big shots, huh?”

Gladio, oblivious, shrugged. “I don’t keep up with politics, but Igs and Highwind seemed to recognize one of ‘em, this tall guy with white hair.”

“Wait….  _ Aldercapt _ is here?!” 

“Are you kidding?” Gladio scoffed. He was busy untying the ropes that held the stirrups in place. “Emperors, kings, they’re all the same. Those guys never come down from their towers to do the fighting, they send their lackeys and innocent men. Nah, the guy I’m talking about isn’t even a Niff.”

Noctis frowned. “What? What do you mean?”

“He sounds kinda like Iggy, so I’m betting he’s from Tenebrae. Which means he’s either a captive, or a traitor.” 

In the prince’s stomach, an icy cold was spreading. There was only one man in Niflheim’s army who fit that description, he was sure of it. But if High Commander Ravus Nox Fleuret was here, marching on Lucian territory, that could only mean….

“They’re preparing for war,” he breathed, the words falling like daggers from his lips. On the other side of the chocobo, Gladio lifted his eyes in concern. “The soldiers in Lestallum, the army here. They’ve gotta be gathering their forces for an attack. But...what the hell do they want with the Thieves’ Guild? It doesn’t make any sense….”

“Hey, you alright over there, kid? You’re babbling.” 

“He’s fine,” Prompto called helpfully from the stalls. “He just didn’t get much sleep last night. But don’t bother asking him about it. Apparently, he doesn’t kiss and tell.” 

Gladio nodded sagely. At least he was tactful enough to drop the subject while they resumed their work in silence. 

Noctis, on the other hand, suddenly found himself wishing for another distraction. Even Prompto and Gladio’s romantic advice had been better than wondering how in the name of the Six he was going to stop a war. 


	6. Shadow Trials

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first of the Guild's three Trials, Noctis is expected to stay cool under pressure. Luckily for him, he's left in Ignis' very capable hands.

Ignis still hadn’t returned to his room by sundown. Alone, drained of energy and in a sulking mood, Noct dragged himself down the stairs to the Council’s quarters himself. The bathtub in the corner of the room was sorely inviting after the day he’d had. He filled it with hot water from the kettle in the hearth. Stripped out of his clothes - covered as they were in sweat and straw and chocobo feathers - and dipped his toes first into the water to test. Then, not even bothering to wait for it to cool, Noct sunk in right up to his ears, and let the stress of the day wash away like so much grime. 

Nearly an hour later found him still soaking there when Ignis quietly walked through the door. His face was drawn, his eyes tired, yet he greeted Noctis with a gentle brush of fingers over his bare shoulder in passing. “Apologies for keeping you waiting. Did you have any trouble getting in?” 

“No.” Noct splashed his fingers across the surface of the water, frowning at nothing in particular. 

For a long moment, Ignis didn’t reply. Perhaps he was waiting for the prince to elaborate, or to bombard him with questions about the meeting with the Niflheim generals. But when the silent treatment became unbearable, he knelt down next to the tub to seek out Noct’s gaze. 

“...Are you angry with me, darling?” 

Noctis sighed. “Why would I be mad at you? I missed you.” 

Ignis was still leaning against the side of the tub, and for a moment the prince wondered if he was going to kiss him. It would have been nice, actually, if he was being honest. Some attention, affection even, and a way to distract himself from the troubles that plagued his thoughts. At the very least, he longed for Ignis to pull him into a hug. 

But to his evident disappointment, Iggy got to his feet without so much as a brush of lips against his cheek. 

"If you've finished your bath, Highness, there's something I'd like to discuss." He unfastened the straps across his chest, his waist, his wrists as he spoke. Slowly, aware his audience was still watching. "Certain…information has come to the Council's attention. Plans have to be changed." 

"So?" Noct countered, affected an air of detachment even as he watched Ignis strip off his robes. "Change 'em, then. What does it have to do with me?" 

Green eyes, unreadable above a tight smirk, turned to him. "What, indeed, I wonder. Come out of the bath." 

" _ Tch. Fine _ . Just hand me the towel." 

Ignis' smirk darkened. "Towel? You won't be needing that." 

Something in his tone. Something in the way he brushed the towel onto the floor, out of sight. Something in the steps he took around the bed, calm and purposeful, had Noctis shivering right down to his toes. 

The prince didn't make Ignis repeat himself. He combed the hair out of his face with his fingers, and stood, dripping wet and naked, in the tub. Ignoring the nerves turning his stomach into a warzone, he stepped forward into the lamp light. "What, um. What did you want to talk about?" 

"Your first Trial, Noctis. The Council has asked that your initiation into the Guild proceed ahead of schedule. Tonight, in fact." Ignis peeled off his gloves one by one, and beckoned Noct closer. 

Trial? Was that really what this was about? That whole escapade seemed so far away, so long ago now, even though it had only happened just that morning. And what, Noct wondered, heat rising to his cheeks as he felt Ignis' gaze rove south, did being stark naked have to do with anything? 

"Your first test on the path to the Guild is to show loyalty under duress. On the bed, Highness." 

"On the…? Okay, Igs, I'm not sure now is the right time for--" 

Ignis left no room for protest. He took Noctis by the wrist and guided him to lay atop the sheets, not, apparently, minding the way his slick skin dampened them. He left him with his arms resting on the pillow above his head to move instead to Noct's discarded clothes on the floor. "Perhaps the biggest threat to any organization is that of a weak link. One who would spill valuable information in lieu of their own blood. A traitor." 

Noct very nearly pushed himself up on the mattress. "Iggy, what the hell are you talking about? I'm not a--"

"I know, darling. I know. But there’s nothing like a bit of torture to ensure your loyalty, is there?" 

Blue eyes widened. Ignis dropped his discarded (and filthy) shirt back onto the floor, holding in his hand the prize he'd plucked from its sleeve: a large, yellow chocobo feather. No doubt a souvenir from his work in the stables. But the way Iggy twirled it between his fingers as nimbly as he usually twirled his own daggers left Noct more confused than ever. 

"So…the Trial is torture? You're going to torture me…with a feather?" 

"Precisely." 

"A  _ feather, _ Igs? Who in their right mind would be scared of that?" 

The taller man approached the bed once again, this time making no attempt to disguise the way his eyes traveled over the length of Noct's body, almost as if deciding where he wanted to start. "Pain is not the only tool at our disposal, Highness. Pleasure, for instance, can be a powerful weapon in the correct state of mind." 

_ Pleasure.  _ Did Ignis intend for his first Trial to be a thinly veiled excuse to get his mouth on him again? Not, of course, that the prince had any objections to that. In fact, his cock was already reacting to the mere thought of what Iggy might have in mind. The Council  _ had  _ said the timing and methods of the Trials would be up to him, after all. And no one had said anything about boundaries. 

"You know," he breathed, trying to keep his voice even despite the excitement growing there. "I'm not really ticklish. Never have been." 

If his suddenly piquing interest was as obvious as he imagined it must be, Ignis tactfully ignored it. "Are you so certain about that?" 

"Yup.  _ Everywhere _ ," he smirked. Noct was growing bolder now, more confident. He wiggled his hips, and stretched his arms up higher than necessary to watch Ignis' eyes darken with hunger. 

His playfulness earned him a light smack on the hip in answer. 

“To pass the trial, you are to answer none of my questions, no matter how badly you may want to. Torture comes in many forms, Noctis, including the denial of release. Will you give me your word you’ll take this seriously?” 

“Yeah. I’m ready,” he said, tilting his face to get a better view of the feather. “Do your worst.” 

His wrists were bound with a strip of leather Ignis had been keeping in his pocket. His legs were spread, and the hardening evidence of his anticipation was on full display between them. Ignis, however, ignored his cock for now. Instead twirled the feather between two fingers as he mapped out his assault. 

“Very well. There are rumors that you, Crown Prince of the Lucian kingdom, have associates in low places. What do you know of the Thieves’ Guild?” The tone was unfamiliar, and Noct had no trouble playing along. 

“The what? Never heard of ‘em.” 

“Is that so?” In response, the feather came down to twirl against the center of his chest, so light a touch that Noct’s breath hitched in his throat. “I’ll ask you again. Who are your friends in the Guild?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the prince smirked defiantly, but nearly regretted his answer. Ignis moved the feather with expert precision, circling the tip around the dark nub of a nipple. An unexpected and fleeting sensation, but it left Noctis squirming atop the sheets nonetheless. Before he could even process his reaction, the feather was moving further down to his navel. 

“Do you know a man named Ignis Scientia?”

“No. B-but, uh, he sounds kinda hot.” His voice, though clipped, still carried a hint of challenge to it. A rebellious edge that Ignis seemed to take in stride. 

“You’re stubborn, prince. Very stubborn. But pride may be your downfall.” The feather traced along the dark hairs of Noctis’ lower stomach, tickling across his skin in a ghostly caress. “I suppose it won’t grieve you, then, to know that he’s strapped to a table in the next room? Probably giving you and the rest of the Guild up as we speak.” 

Despite himself, Noctis felt a pang in his chest. Iggy was sitting right in front of him, he knew this was merely a test, and yet.... “You’re bluffing. You don’t have him.” 

“Ah, so you  _ do  _ know the man. Glad to know you’ve been lying.” Ignis smirked, a good look on a face as sharp as his, and swirled the tip of the feather around the base of his cock. A reward of sorts for his accidental confession. “Then perhaps you’d like to start from the beginning. What do you know of the Thieves’ Guild? Give us names, and we’ll let you - and Scientia - go.” 

“Not gonna happen. I told you,” Noct shot back, grinning weakly. “I can handle your worst.” 

As soon as the words left his lips, the feather disappeared. Resurfaced a moment later above his chest again, turning slow, lazy circles around the most sensitive parts of his skin. Moving between his nipples, to his armpits, tickling over his throat in a decidedly threatening way. Noct swallowed. 

“Names, Noctis. Or I shall return you to your lonely tower atop the highest peak of the Citadel. Minus a few bits, of course.” 

_ Gross _ . Noct wasn’t sure he was into this anymore. He lifted his hips up off the bed, hoping Iggy would take the hint and go back to teasing him down there. “Hey, uh. Think you could try asking nicer? I might be more willing to talk if I had some motivation, you know?” 

A thin brow arched, and Ignis, curious, brought his left hand up to Noct’s hip instead. While the feather continued to play idly across his upper body, warm fingers slid down to stroke the inside of one thigh. “I’m listening, prince. What information can you give me?”

“You want to know about the Thieves’ Guild, right?” He kept his eyes, now a deep, hungry blue nearly swallowed up in black, fixed on Ignis as he spoke, the intensity of his gaze keeping him from calling the trial a bust just yet. “I know about their secret tunnels. You know, the ones that lead under the city's Wall”

Frowning, Ignis brushed his knuckles over the soft mound of Noct's balls. “You mean Insomnia?”

“Right. It leads... _ a-ah!”  _ His head fell back suddenly, the warmth of Iggy’s fingers around his cock temporarily snatching the breath from his lungs. For a moment, he simply revelled in the contact. Then, when Ignis didn’t move, he found his voice and hurried on. “I-it’s their secret passage into the Citadel.”

“You don't say. And where can I find this tunnel, prince?” 

Dark eyes, though growing unfocused, locked on Ignis. "In a valley….”

“Yes? Go on.”

“...Up your ass.”

It took a moment. The joke landed to silence, and then sudden relief bubbled out of Ignis in a low, breathy laugh. “Well played, Noct. Not bad at all. For a moment there, I almost worried you’d fallen for the trick.” 

“Give me...more credit than that, Igs.” He managed a smile between breaths. Down the length of his body, Ignis had resumed touching him, fingers now wrapped tightly around his cock and stroking in a steady rhythm. Above, the feather still tickled across his trembling skin, the dual sensations easily shutting down the parts of his brain not focused on the pleasure of it. 

Yet  _ watching _ Ignis touch him, with a smile hung beneath adoring eyes, was somehow the most intoxicating of all. The concentration on his face, the softness in the edges of his mouth. He was truly beautiful, and Noct understood now exactly what Prompto had meant that morning when he’d talked about a 'tightness in his chest.' Ignis gave him that feeling. Not only now, but always when they were together. It hurt, in a way, a powerful ache that Noct wasn’t quite sure yet how to fill. But he knew that, no matter what happened, he didn’t want to lose this. And he didn't want to stop. 

“Iggy…. Please, together….” 

His body gave another jolt, the coil in his stomach reacting to the sound of his own airy voice. Ignis’ green eyes darkened, desire warring with hesitation.“Noctis. Let me take care of--”

“No, no, I mean. I want you to….” Cheeks burning with heat, with need, Noct couldn’t find the right words. “I just want  _ you _ . Please, Iggy. I love you.” 

Had he...meant to say that? Was it even enough? Ignis’ expression, too, read equal parts shock and disbelief. Yet there was something else there, too. Noct prayed it was hope. 

Around his cock, Iggy's fingers slowed. “Say that again, Noctis.” 

“I...I love you.”

Yeah. Yeah, it felt good. It felt  _ right _ . He said it a third time, the words leaving him in a sigh as Ignis released his hold completely. Instead wrapped both arms around Noct’s waist, and lifted him to sit in his lap, thighs spreading out to either side. From this new angle, Ignis could look up at him with a newfound reverence. “Noctis.  _ My Noctis. _ ”

It didn't matter who started the kiss, because both fell into it with equal need. The prince’s wrists, still bond with the leather cord, came to rest comfortably around lean shoulders. His erection pressed up urgently into Ignis’ firm body, and he moaned into the mouth that so greedily devoured his own. 

_ Ignis. Please. I want you.  _

His body sufficed where words failed him again. He ground down, desperate now for that touch to come back, to tease him closer to the edge once more. Ignis did not disappoint. With one hand, he palmed the underside of Noct’s cock between them, while the other moved to seek out his lips. Fingers twined with their tongues in the kiss, and Noct lapped at them, his chest pounding. 

_ This  _ was the distraction he'd been seeking. So long as Ignis held him, nothing else mattered. Not the Guild or the army or even the army gathering above them. For the few moments of stolen pleasure, as Ignis' fingers slipped between the cheeks of his ass to open him, the rest of the world seemed to disappear. Only this, only  _ him, _ only one night. 

Hot lips moved to his jaw, his neck while Ignis worked. Every gasp or sigh that spilled out of Noctis fell freely around them. Uninhibited and pleading for more,  _ more _ . Until the fingers inside him were no longer enough, and Noctis begged with his lust-heavy eyes for Ignis to take him.  _ Please,  _ he moaned.  _ I want to be yours _ . 

At last, the leather binding his wrists was untied. Ignis laid him back against the pillows, kissed him deeply as he wiped his fingers clean on the sheets. Though he stiffened when the prince made to slide his shirt open, he didn't stop Noctis, nor did he pull away. As his body was revealed inch by inch, he watched the way Noctis drank in the sight. The way his fingertips traced lightly over the more obvious scars, and how, without a word, he helped Ignis not to be ashamed.

He fell into his prince then. Consumed entirely by his scent, his taste, the sounds pouring liberally from his throat. Ignis freed his cock to press against Noct's inner thigh, and the shivers he received in response were more delicious than he could have imagined. With Noct's fingers roving desperately over his back, he adjusted himself into place. 

"This…may hurt a little," he warned, though his voice was raw with need. Noctis nodded once into his shoulder. 

"It's okay."

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

“ _ Iggy. _ I trust you,” Noct smiled, rocking his hips up again in encouragement. The solid girth of Ignis’ cock that met him dispelled the last of any lingering doubts he might have had. “You gotta trust me, too. I really,  _ really  _ want this.” 

It worked, insofar as Ignis stopped asking permission with his words. Instead, he asked with his eyes, with his tongue and with his fingers as they once again sought out Noct’s hole. They slid into him, gently probing in tight heat until he found what he was evidently looking for - a spot that left Noct shuddering, arching against him, tensing all the way down to the curl of his toes. Satisfied, Ignis slicked the palm of his hand, and dropped it down between their bodies.

Noctis was still catching his breath when the first stretch snatched it away again. More weight pushed into him, slowly as Ignis took the time to gauge his reaction with every inch. Deeper, hotter, until the prince was biting his lip hard enough to taste copper. 

Ignis paused to adjust. His lips pressed soothing kisses to his face while his fingers curled around the back of Noct’s knees. “I’m going to move now.” 

It was all he could do to nod his head. No doubt Ignis was as careful as he could be, starting in shallow thrusts until Noct’s muscles relaxed around him. Adding more saliva and lifting Noct’s hips off the bed to ease the strain. At some point, without the prince noticing, the pain gave way to something else, new sensations that were making his head spin and forcing his breath out in shakey moans. He latched onto Ignis on instinct, and let the rhythm of their bodies moving together set the pace of the waves. 

His cock was already swollen against his belly when Ignis found that spot inside him again. He hit it dead on, and Noct’s eyes flew open. “ _ I-Iggy!”  _ The next thrust sent bursts of light dancing in his vision. A third time, and he could feel the wetness leaking from his cock. “I-Iggy, I need…!”

“Touch yourself, Highness.” That voice was a breathless whisper next to his ear. “Let me hear you.”

Noct didn’t need to be told twice. Still clinging with one arm to Ignis’ shoulders, he wrapped his other trembling fingers around himself and began to pump. Flying faster, faster, chasing pleasure even while Ignis fucked him through it. He came in spurts that painted his stomach and chest, and with a groan like music in the heated air. 

Body still trembling, lips still parted in panting breaths, Noct watched Ignis succumb to the pleasure in turn. His hips shuddered, his shoulders tensed. Then, as if suddenly light as air, Ignis floated down into the prince’s arms, and the two held each other until long after the room had cooled.

Eventually, a brush of lips against his temple brought Noct back from the edges of sleep. He smiled. Turned into Ignis’ embrace to feel the softening length still inside him slip free - and an uncomfortable, wet sensation follow in its wake. 

Ignis mistook his sudden grimace as pain. “Noctis? Are you alright? If I’ve hurt you, I’m so sorry.”

“N-no, it’s fine. Honest,” the prince said with an awkward laugh. “I’m just gonna, y’know, have to get used to the mess.” 

“ _ Ah. _ Right, er. Apologies.”

“Don’t. That was perfect.” A well-placed kiss cut him off, and another brought back the contented smile that Noct was growing so fond of. “I liked it. A lot, actually.” 

“Mmm.”

“So...did I pass?”

Fingers paused in stroking back through his still-damp hair. “Come again?”

“The Shadow Trial. Did I pass, or...?”

Ignis’ laughter was as light as the first snows of winter in Lucis. “With flying colors, Highness. Now, what do you say to another bath before bed? Together, this time.” 


	7. Playing the Rat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After passing the first Trial with flying colors, the second proves more challenging - and far more dangerous - than Noct expected.

For the first time in his life, Noctis woke to the sensation of another body pressed against him. 

Sleepy, but feeling surprisingly well-rested, he contented himself with reveling in the warmth of having Ignis so close. His chest, his arms, the soft breaths tickling the back of his neck - it was something he could see himself getting used to, waking up like this. And he wondered, not without a little longing, if Ignis felt the same. 

Eventually, the lips against his neck curved in a smile that almost answered Noct’s question. “Good morning, Highness,” Ignis, still sleepy, hummed. “How do you feel?” 

“Good. Hungry. What’s for breakfast?”

From the way he paused, it was clear Ignis had been asking a very different sort of question. But he settled back into the pillows with a chuckle anyway. “Yes, well, I suppose we did both miss dinner, didn’t we? Let me up, I’ll scout out our options.”

The mattress creaked as he shifted free from the tangle of limbs and sheets. In his absence, the prince immediately snuggled down into the lingering warmth, and pouted. “Iggy, come back. It’s cold.” 

“Are you hungry, or not?” There was more amusement than annoyance in his tone as he tugged on first his trousers, then his boots. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

“Because you’ll miss me?”

“Because I  _ live  _ here.” Green eyes didn’t miss the coy smile Noct flashed, or the way he stretched his arms up in a less-than-subtle reminder of the night before. Ignis’ mask cracked only around the edges. Tugging on his shirt, he conceded. “And, yes. Also because I’ll miss you.” 

Noct’s grin followed him all the way out of the room. 

That left the prince alone and with several options. He could, of course, go back to sleep, which was arguably the most tempting way to spend the morning. Another more pressing matter was the vague interest growing between his legs, a combination of Ignis’ admission and the pleasure still tingling on the edges of his nerves. But in the end, Noct decided on a quick wash and a rummage through Iggy’s things to find some new clothes to wear for the day. 

Luckily for him, almost everything Ignis owned came in exactly one shade of night black. The shirt sleeves were only slightly too long, but the leggings he found fit him perfectly. He tested them out under his borrowed cloak, knelt down beside the bathtub to polish one side of the worn iron, and was greeted with a face he barely recognized. 

His eyes, of course, were his own, but the rest of him…. There was a sharpness to his jaw he’d never noticed before, and more color in his usually pallid cheeks. Lifting his shirt again, he found his body looked leaner, too, and had lost the softness that had been there before he and Ignis had started their travels. Overall, it seemed an improvement. He wondered if Iggy had seen the changes in him. If he saw him getting stronger. 

“When you’re quite done  _ preening _ , Highness, I have a task for you.” Ignis stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms folded and amusement playing plainly across his face. How long had he been there? 

Embarrassed, Noct hid his cheeks behind a veil of messy hair as he rose to his feet. “It’s rude to sneak up on people, you know.”

“Oh? Is that what I was doing?” Ignis didn’t move, didn’t wipe the smirk from his lips. Then, “Are those  _ my  _ clothes?”

“Uh. Yeah. I borrowed ‘em. Figured you wouldn’t mind, since mine still smell like the stables and stuff.” 

“...I don’t. Mind, that is.” Clearing his throat, Ignis shifted his gaze literally anywhere else. “We can get your clothes cleaned later, if you like. First, I have--”

“A task for me. You mentioned that,” Noct cut in, already making his way toward the door to join him. “Does it involve breakfast? ‘Cause I could eat a whole Zu right about now.” 

The task did, as it turned out, involve breakfast, but neither Zu nor its legendary eggs were on the menu. In fact, as he followed Ignis through the front doors of a rather seedy-looking pub, he wondered if there was going to be anything that resembled solid food at all. 

“Little early to be hitting the drinks, don’t you think, Iggy?” He kept his voice low, not wanting to draw the attention of any of the handful of patrons already bent over their dusty mugs. The few eyes that did dare to turn their way caught one look from Ignis, and immediately averted their gaze again. 

“You’ll understand soon enough,” was all he received in reply. 

A balding man with a lopsided smile brought a plate to their table. Several rolls of bread (hard enough to break a window, which Noct supposed might actually be useful for a thief), some kind of bleu cheese that was more blue than cheese, and grilled fish. Not having seen a lake or even a river anywhere nearby, Noct could only guess at how fresh it was. 

But some food was better than no food, he decided, and dug in with minimal complaint. Ignis, meanwhile, barely touched the dishes. He kept his attention fixed instead on the door of the pub, as if he were waiting for someone- or something - to come through it. 

After several long minutes of chewing on the same still-hard slice of bread, Noct at last gave up with a sigh. “Hello, Eos to Iggy. Are you gonna tell me what we’re doing here? This food sucks, why couldn’t we go somewhere better.”

“Hush. Don’t let Takka hear you say that.” 

The prince rolled his eyes. “Fine, then tell me what this ‘task’ of yours is. The sooner we get it over with, the sooner we can go get some real food, right?” 

Sharp as ever, Ignis’ green eyes flashed in his direction. The intensity there was enough to have the prince setting his bread back down on the plate. “The task I’ve chosen for you will fulfill the Guild’s Second Shadow Trial. This will be no easy matter, I’m afraid. This one is serious.” 

Noct scoffed. “Like last night wasn’t? What, are you gonna ask me to get under the table and--”

“Noctis, please, listen. The second Trial is of utmost importance to a thief’s survival in the wide world, and to the Guild itself. Perhaps even more than gold and jewels, we deal in the gathering of information. To know our targets, to know our exits, and to know our enemies, as well.” 

Almost as if he had timed his speech, the doors of the pub burst open then in a flurry of voices and clinking armor. Rough laughter proceeded the Niflheim soldiers all the way up to the counter, where they called for a round of drinks amid the raucous.

At their table, the prince’s eyes widened to dinner plates. He was grateful for the cloak he wore as, once again, he buried his face beneath the concealing hood. “ _ Iggy _ ,” he hissed urgently, trying to disappear into the wall behind him. “ _ Iggy, we gotta go! I can’t be seen like--” _

“Calm down. I’ll finish explaining in a moment, but first we’re waiting for one more…. Ah, yes. Here he comes.”

And how could anyone miss him? The man made up for his stature with a persona that was larger-than-life. Beneath impractically decorated armor, he stomped into the pub like a pissed-off spiracorn, and had the soldiers scrambling to attention at a single command.

“Beer! I need beer,” he demanded. The soldiers parted for him and he slammed his fist repeatedly on the counter. “Where’s the blasted barkeep? Is everyone in this filty town as incompetent as-- Ah, finally!” 

As Ignis and Noct watched, the general snatched the mug that was offered to him and downed half of it in one gulp. Around him, his men seemed caught between impressed and terrified of what would come next. 

But Noctis was easily the most frightened of them all. He’d recognized the man the second he’d walked through the doors. The infamous Imperial General Loqi Tummelt, the youngest noble to ascend the ranks of the Niflheim army in over a century, with a reputation and titles that far exceeded his age. Noct had heard stories of him from the Glaives back at the Citadel. About his ruthlessness, and lack of mercy. If, by some stroke of misfortune, Loqi somehow recognized him…. 

Ignis’ hand suddenly came to rest over his on the table. A welcome distraction, though he couldn’t quite still the pounding of his heart. 

“General Tummelt. He is your target,” Ignis said quietly, seriously, and Noct felt his stomach lurch from more than just the stale bread. “The Guild needs information regarding the army’s true objectives. Our meeting yesterday left us with more questions than answers, I’m afraid, and we need to know what they  _ aren’t _ telling us before we make a move.”

“And you want  _ me _ to get it?!” Noct’s voice sounded too loud, too panicked to his own ears. “Are you nuts? What if he knows who I am?”

“He doesn’t,” Ignis answered with a deadly serious tone. “They’ve asked the Guild for access to the tunnels that run into the city of Insomnia. They’re planning a siege,” he added quickly before Noct could guess it. “But it’s meant to be a distraction. While they hold the king’s attention with threats of harming his son at the gates, the real attack will take place beneath his feet.”

“Damn,” the prince swore, casting a dark look toward the soldiers at the bar. “They’re cowards. But they don’t even  _ have  _ me, how are they going to convince my father they do?” 

“That,” Ignis frowned. “Is what we would like to know, as well. Already, the Empire has claimed your kidnapping as their own. An obvious lie, and yet they haven’t revealed that hand to us. Which makes me think--”

“They don’t know I’m here?”

“Precisely.” 

Again, Noctis gazed side-long at the bar counter. The general, Loqi Tummelt, was already on his second drink, and still barking up a storm of orders to his men. None of them had spared even a passing glance in his and Iggy’s direction. If anything, and despite their armor, the whole group appeared to be off-duty altogether. 

Noct swallowed the ball of nerves that had lumped in his throat. “So...what do you need me to do?” 

The hand that had been resting on his pulled away now, but Ignis’ eyes were only for him. “Your secret is safe for the moment, but I cannot guarantee that others in the Guild are as oblivious as they seem. If even one of the council members has figured out who you are, there’s a chance that they will sell you out to the Niffs. Trust no one,” he reminded the prince, who nodded in slow understanding. He couldn’t help but think back to that man with the hat, the one who had examined him,  _ appraised _ him even, as if trying to guess how much each of his body parts would be worth apiece. 

“Okay. Then I just need to find out if anyone on our side has offered them information about me. I-I mean the missing prince, who I’m definitely not. How was that?” 

“Don’t be too obvious, or too forward. That raises suspicion,” Ignis advised. “Better to let the conversation flow naturally - with a little guidance, of course.” 

Yeah, easy as cake. He rolled his eyes as Ignis finally reached for a slice of the cheese between them. “None of them know your face, Highness. They won’t recognize you from the Council, either. Pose as a low ranking thief out to make a quick bag of gold in exchange for useful information. Lie if you have to, but take care not to tangle yourself in your own web. Go on. I’ve got your back.” 

At least the last part reassured him a little. Noct got to his feet feeling very much like a stupid fly walking right into a very obvious trap, What was that old line he used to hear in stories about knights that snuck into the dens of sleeping dragons? ‘No better place to hide than right under your enemy’s nose,’ or something like that. Only, as far as he remembered, most of those heroes had ended up crispy with a side of burnt. 

Iggy was  _ really  _ going to have to make this up to him later. 

The soldiers continued to ignore him as he approached the counter and sat a few stools down from their group. Takka, who was looking a little nauseous himself, brought him over a small mug of beer. Noct pretended to sip on it while he listened in for an opening. 

“I’ll tell you what he is, he’s a traitor,” Tummelt was saying in a voice that made the others shrink. “That no-good son-of-a-duke is going to turn on our glorious Empire the first chance he gets, mark my words.”

“You think he’d betray us, sir?”

“Of course! That’s what he’s doing now, isn’t it? Secret meetings, shutting me out like a common hired hand. Never,” the general boomed, slamming his fist on the counter again. “ _ Ever _ trust a Nox Fleuret!” 

Noct’s eyebrows jumped. He was talking about Ravus. He had to be, there was no mistaking it. Which meant there was clearly unrest within even the upper ranks of the army, old wounds that wouldn’t take much digging to reopen. And what had he mentioned about a secret meeting? 

Taking a leap of faith, he lifted his mug about an inch off the table. “You can say that again,” he called out as if in answer - and immediately caught the attention of every soldier in the group. 

Okay, maybe he wasn’t ready for this, after all. 

“Excuse me, but just who in the  _ hell _ are you supposed to be?” That was Tummelt himself, elbowing one of his bewildered men out of the way to get a clear view of Noct further down the bar. There was suspicion there, yes, but no hint of recognition. So far, so good. “And just how long have you been sitting there? I swear, this entire garbage dump of a town is full of nothing but sneaky little rats.” 

_ Ouch,  _ but fair, Noct thought. Still hooded, he turned enough to flash the general a winning smile. “Who, me? I’m no one important. Just your friendly neighborhood thief, looking to offer my services.” Was that what Iggy meant about ‘too obvious’? He felt like it might have been, 

Tummelt scratched at invisible stubble on his chin. “Services? What, are you going to nab one of our purses and offer to sell it back?” 

“No, no,” Noct managed a laugh, albeit awkwardly as he saw the soldiers reach for their swords. “Nothing like that. I deal more in...people than pickpocketing. I couldn’t help but overhear your problem. Sounds like there's trouble in paradise, am I right?” 

"That has nothing to do with the likes of  _ you _ ." 

He shrugged beneath his cloak. "Suit yourself. I was just gonna suggest that, hey, if you can't trust your own kind, maybe you should beat 'em to the chase. Buy information out from under them, y'know?" 

Icy blue eyes full of fire pinned him to the counter almost as readily as Tummelt’s finger suddenly stabbing into his chest. “You will mind your own business, sewer rat, and keep that nose of yours out of Imperial affairs. Is that clear?” 

Out of the corner of his eye, and around the gaggle of soldiers suddenly flanking around him, Noct caught sight of Ignis across the room. He was still at the table, but he was poised to lunge at the first sign of danger, his fingers already dancing inside his cloak for the dagger he kept there. Noctis blinked rapidly, hoping it was enough to signal him to stand down. 

"Guys, guys," he smiled, raising both of his hands up in a disarming gesture. "Really, I'm only trying to help. I assumed you'd be excited that I know where to find your missing Lucian prince." 

As expected,  _ that  _ caught Tummelt's attention fast. His hand twisted around a fistful of black cloak, and his sneer turned decidedly less friendly than before. Though half a head shorter than Noct, he still knew how to be damn intimidating when he tried. "Men, on your guard. No one gets past this bar, understood? I won't be long." 

_ Famous last words,  _ Noctis gulped to himself. Most likely for him, as Loqi was now dragging him by the front of his robes past the counter and into the kitchen at the back. A rude gesture to Takka had the barkeep scrambling out of the way, and then Noct was being slammed up against a barrel of wine. 

"H-hey, easy, easy. Don't you know how to sweet talk a guy?" 

"Tell me what you know,  _ sewer rat,"  _ Loqi growled up his nose at him. "Everything, and no games." 

He gulped again. "Okay, relax, I'll talk. I'm not your enemy, yeah?"  _ Oh,  _ the irony. He'd have to thank Ignis later for all the practice lying through his teeth. "Listen, I know the real reason your army's here in Meldacio. You think  _ we've  _ got the crown prince holed up in a cage someplace, right?" 

"Are you saying your lot  _ doesn't _ have him?" 

Noct looked Loqi square in the eyes. "No. He isn't here, never was. That was a rumor  _ we _ spread to throw the king's men off the scent. The prince is well on his way to Gralea by now, being escorted personally to Zegnatus by our Guild Master himself."

Surprise, tinged with suspicion, had the general taking a step back. Noct was released from his grasp, free to adjust his robes now as he waited to see if the bait was snatched. 

"An interesting story, thief. Does the great Emperor Aldercapt know of this little scheme?" 

"If he did," Noct said, pulling his most confident smirk. "Do you think he would have sent you guys here on a wild chocobo chase?" 

"Hmph. And what do you expect in return for this…information? I know you sewer rats don't do anything for free." 

"For starters, you can stop calling us 'rats.'" Loqi threw him a look that was no amusement and all threat. "Fine. I want to know who else is selling your army information. Gotta know who my competition is, right?" 

"The High Commander has been meeting with a man named Izunia. He sold Nox Fleuret on a lie that the prince is indeed here in Meldacio. From what I overheard…." Here, the general paused to clear his throat, as if something he'd said hadn't sat well on his tongue. "What I  _ heard  _ is that the prince is masquerading around as something called a 'shadow,' whatever that means. Sounds like pure catoblepas shit to me, but Nox Fleuret bought it. Even cut me out of the meetings, the bastard. But, oh, won't he be surprised when I'm the one who delivers Prince Noctis to our Emperor's feet.”

“Hey, wait, what do you-?”

“And I think this so-called ‘master’ of yours will make a nice side offering. Yes, the head of a thief, and one less thorn in the side of our conquest." 

Making a show of his affront, Noct clenched his hands into fists at his sides. "Bastard. You'll never catch up with them, they'll be halfway to Accordo in a boat by now!" 

"If you think a boat can outrun an imperial fleet,  _ rat, _ then your breed are even less of a threat than I'd thought." Loqi smirked, a dark expression that said he was completely convinced he'd already won. "And as for your  _ tip _ , boy. Perhaps you should learn to put that loose tongue of yours to better use. It'd turn more profit in a brothel than in selling out your comrades for free." 

He laughed, mockingly, all the way to the front of the pub, where he once again gathered up his waiting men. Noct watched them in a mix of awe and disgust. For one thing, he hadn't expected that to work quite so easily. For another, he now knew for certain that Loqi was even more of a dick in person than the rumors let on. But he was gone now, with any luck off to chase ghosts across the southern sea. Without him, Noct's only obstacle would be Ravus. 

Above him in the rafters of the storeroom, a large shadow shifted. Gloved hands gripped a beam, and Ignis lowered himself to the ground to Noct's side as gracefully as a cat. 

"Shit. Were you really just there the whole time?" the prince gaped at him. 

A thin smile. "You didn't actually think I'd put you in danger, did you? I must say, though, that was quite a brilliant act. Perhaps you'd make a fine thief after all, Noctis." 

The praise had him feeling suddenly much warmer beneath the layers of his cloak. "Yeah, right.  _ That  _ guy didn't seem to think so. He seemed to think I'd make a better whore." 

"As if I’d allow anyone else to touch you." To Noct's surprise, Ignis brought one warm, gloved hand to rest at the small of his back, none too subtly stroking fingers down over the curve of his ass through his robes. "I'm not very good at sharing." 

Okay. Not that he was about to admit how hot that was, but suddenly Noct was having trouble finding words for anything. He was glad when Ignis changed the subject again, if only because his own hands were twitching to pull that warm body so much closer. 

"The news of Ardyn's betrayal, however, means that other pieces of this game have already been set in motion. We cannot be sure how much he has told the army of what he knows. It may not be safe for you here much longer." 

Clearing his throat several times, Noctis finally managed, "How do you think he figured it out?" 

"Your identity? I'm not certain. Perhaps he knows your face, perhaps not.” Something dark, like a memory, passed over Ignis’ eyes. “He has…a way of reading people. And he’s more clever than he looks. He won’t reveal his full hand even to the Niffs until he’s certain he’s going to win.” 

“So what do we do? Can we, y’know…?” Noct drew a finger across his throat in a very telling gesture. One which Ignis clearly didn’t find nearly as amusing. 

“I’m a criminal, Noctis, not a murderer. Besides,” he said, smoothing out his robes out of habit. “If I were to kill a member of the Council, my bid for the title of Master Thief would certainly be forfeit.” 

_ Right.  _ Because that was far more important than escaping the evil Empire’s clutches in one piece, or stopping the war that was brewing against his own kingdom. Noct released a huff of air as he dropped his hands to his sides. “Okay. Then, let’s leave Meldacio. If we make our start for Insomnia now, we can beat Ravus to the Wall. We can warn my father before the siege even starts.”

“... _ We?” _

Ignis seemed genuinely shocked by the suggestion, as if Noct saying the words was the first time he’d even considered their role in this fight. That, more than anything, was a blow to the prince’s heart. “Yes, Iggy. Us. I thought you’d want to help me?” 

“I…. Noctis, of course I do, but I can’t go back to Insomnia. What do you think your father will do when he learns who  _ really _ kidnapped you from your bed that night.” 

“Well, we can deal with that later.” 

“ _ Or _ when he learns whose bed you’re sleeping in now.”

Noct admittedly swallowed at that. “Okay. Maybe he doesn’t have to know everything….”

“It wouldn’t matter. I’m a thief, Noctis. People like me aren’t allowed in decent places. They’ll shoot before you can even--”

He was cut off mid-sentence, any words he could have said snatched up by the prince’s lips suddenly pressing against his. Ignis faltered, sighing into the kiss. “Noct….”

“I love you, Iggy. But I also have to do this. You said it yourself, my dad’s in danger. Everyone in Insomnia will be in danger if the Niffs aren’t stopped.” He sighed, pulling back to look Ignis in the eyes. “You’ve shown me so much out here, which is exactly why I know I have to go back now. I have to go be a prince again.” 

In silence, Ignis regarded him for a long moment, mouth pressed in a thin, thoughtful line. Then bowing his head, he took Noct’s hands in his own and lowered himself to one knee. “...Very well. Lead and I shall follow, Your Majesty.” 


	8. War or Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If it's a war Niflheim wants, it's a war they'll get, and Noctis may be the only one with a chance of changing the course of history. 
> 
> But should he fail....

On foot, they wouldn’t have stood a chance of reaching Insomnia in time. There was too much ground to cover, and the Niflheim army that left the gates of Meldacio on their heels was an unbeatable force. Carriages rumbled and soldiers tramped the land beneath their boots, as the generals that led them onwards barked orders one after another. All except Ravus Nox Fleuret, High Commander of the Imperial Arms, who was forced to ride on one of the supply carts near the back of the march. 

Noctis didn’t feel the least bit guilty, watching him as they were from the ridge of the Pallareth Pass. In fact, he nudged Ignis beside him as Ravus’ scowling visage came into view of their looking glass. “Bet he’s gonna wish he’d rode with Caligo after this,” he smirked, and Ignis shushed him with a kiss. 

They didn’t linger any longer than they had to. Reconnaissance finished, Ignis tucked the spyglass back into his chocobo’s pack, then turned to help Noctis on his own bird. It was a surprisingly friendly thing, considering she’d previously belonged to the High Commander himself. But a few of Prompto’s extra special greens and a pet or two to the beak had quickly won the warbird over, and now Noct was learning quickly how to steer for himself. Keeping pace with Ignis, they stuck to the rolling fields of Cleigne - out of sight of the army marching down the road - and set their sights once again on the distant Walls of Noctis’ home. 

Meals were sparse, and time to rest in between even more so. But the closer they came to the dustbowl of Leide, the more Noct began to feel the weight of responsibility dragging his shoulders down. Seeing his father again, facing the anger he had no doubt would come, had his fingers tensing unconsciously around the bridle he gripped between them. 

Ignis, noticing the change, guided his mount closer. “Highness. Are you alright? Shall we stop for a moment?” 

“Huh? Um, n-no. I’m fine,” he said, smile tight. “We’re almost there.”

“And we’re half a day ahead of the Niflheim troops. There’s a thicket just over there. What do you say to a tea break?” 

“Tea?” the prince laughed. “You hate tea.”

A shrug as Ignis helped to coax both of the chocobos toward the brush along the side of a rocky crag. “Almost as much as I hate riding. Or meeting with kings. But, here we are anyway.  _ Tss,  _ easy girl, slowly now.” 

Noctis allowed strong hands to hold him steady as he dismounted. He shook out the cramp in his thighs, stretched his back and sucked in a lungful of dusty air. “Want me to start the fire? Hm?” 

But when he turned, expecting to see Ignis already examining the brush for acceptable leaves, he instead found rich, emerald eyes watching him close. Ignis reached out, the soft leather of his gloves a welcome touch against his wind-chilled cheeks. “Um. Iggy. What are you…?” 

“Indulging for a moment, if you don’t mind. I miss sharing a saddle with you.”

Noct chuckled. “Stealing Ravus’ bird was your idea, remember? You said we’d be faster this way.”

“ I did. We are. I still miss having you close.” Smiling, Ignis brushed his fingers through the soft locks of hair that fell in Noct’s face. Tucked them behind one ear before cupping his cheek entirely. “And I couldn’t help but notice you seem tense. Perhaps I can help?” 

There was something in his tone, gentle but suggestive, that had Noct’s throat going dry from more than just the climate. Between his legs, where his muscles ached from two days of hard riding, he felt interest begin to stir despite himself. “Now? Here?” 

“Why not?” That hand drifted lower, fingertips ghosting over Noct’s throat, down the front of his cloak, to rest just south of his chest. “Would you prefer to wait until after your father claps me in chains?” 

He glanced at the road, quiet behind them. Then at the Walls of Insomnia looming up ahead, a reality he wasn’t quite ready to face yet. Then back at Ignis, who was watching him with an expectant smile. “He won’t. I won’t let him,” Noct countered, moving forward into Ignis’ waiting embrace anyway. “You’re with me, and no one else is allowed to touch you.” 

“I’m flattered, my prince.”

“The chains might be kind of hot, though.” 

“ _ Hm _ .” The laugh was hardly an answer, but the kiss that followed may as well have been. Ignis broke through each of Noct’s defenses with staggering efficiency, fingers and tongue opening him up faster than any lockpick. His own cloak was spread on the ground behind the privacy of the thicket, and Noct eagerly followed him down onto it. Their lips locked again as now-bare hands trailed under the prince’s robes, and in his excitement he released a low whine. Rolled his body up into the touch that was already smoothing away so much tension.

Ignis worked open the front of their robes first. Next were the front of Noct’s breeches, and he sucked in a shuddering breath as the cool, dry air hit his exposed skin. “Iggy, w-what if... _ mm _ , someone sees us?” 

“Who’s going to see us out here, my love? The sabertusks?” A chuckle, warm breath against the side of his neck. Ignis’ own trouser were opened at last to free his hardening cock, and Noctis couldn’t resist rolling up against it in greeting. 

“Mmm, just...don’t tease me, okay?” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“Yeah, right.” His breath caught - fingers as hot as the streets of Lestallum had surrounded him without warning - and the prince found the last of his misgivings falling away. “F-feels good, Iggy. Do it with me?” 

Ignis was too busy licking a trail of fire up the length of his jaw to answer, but he did exactly as asked. Shifting, adjusting his grip, he slid his own cock against Noct’s within the cocoon of his palm. Began to rock gently, the friction coming from both sides in a perfect embrace. 

The act was almost magical in that moment, Noct thought. Just the two of them, alone under the brilliant sunset. Losing themselves to the distraction of pleasure, to each other while time ticked by everywhere but for in their arms. A reprieve, temporary but  _ oh so  _ good. Noct hadn’t realized he’d been missing this. But Iggy, as usual, knew exactly how to tend his needs. 

Legs hooking around lean hips, the prince gave a final thrust into that welcoming touch. Felt and heard Ignis reach his limits as well, until both of them were left panting, and wet with a sticky mess. 

Through sated eyes, Noct watched Ignis bring his fingers up to his mouth. Clean away the mess there with almost cat-like strokes of his tongue, until the sight was too much to resist. Noct pushed himself up on his elbows to join him, and he knew, in that moment, that he would never crave anything the way he craved Iggy’s taste. 

At last, limbs too heavy to hold them up, they both stretched out atop the cloak for must-deserved rest. With Ignis’ fingers in his hair and those rich, emerald eyes watching him, Noct felt safer than he had in a long time. Whatever the coming hours brought, he felt that they would be able to face anything. 

Together, of course. 

“You think...we could stay here for a little while?” he asked on the tail end of a yawn. He closed his eyes, letting Ignis’ warmth soothe his mind, lull him a little closer to sleep. 

Slick lips pressed to his temple. “Certainly. It would be safer to enter the city under cover of darkness, anyway.”

“Hey, Iggy? When this is all over….” 

A hum. Ignis kissed his cheek. “What is it?”

“When this is all over, I wanna be with you.  _ Yours _ . Forever.” 

He thought he heard his name in answer, or maybe that was just a sigh breathed against the top of his head. Ignis hugged him to his chest until Noct could sense the beat of his heart in the space between them “I will always love you, Noct. Please know that nothing can ever change that.” 

Something in his tone sounded...sad? But Noctis was too sleepy to chase that thought now. In Ignis’ arms, he fell asleep as the sky darkened and night fell around them at last. 

* * *

He’d only meant to close his eyes for a few hours. A short rest to charge his courage, to give him the strength to face his father with Ignis at his side. There was too much as stake for anything else. 

And yet, when he woke to the sight of morning and the sun hanging just above the craggy ridge, he knew everything had gone wrong.

Noct sat up with a start. Beneath him, Ignis’ cloak was still spread like a makeshift bedroll, but neither Iggy nor the yellow chocobo he’d been riding could be found. Noct’s (or, rather, Ravus’) bird clucked and trilled from the bushes beside the campsite. It was evidently hungry, and had taken to pecking at berries for breakfast in lieu of proper greens. Not far away, a pack of sabertucks stalked through a billowing cloud of orange dust. 

Panic boiled just beneath the surface of Noct’s skin. Ignis wasn’t there, and he had no idea where he might have gone or when -  _ or if _ \- he was coming back. It wasn’t like him to just leave...was it? In his fear, Noct suddenly realized just how far he was out of his element. What did a prince who’d spent most of his life locked in a tower know about thieves, or war, or even love? Maybe he’d pushed Ignis too far, expected too much of him dragging him back to Insomnia like this, and in the end he had chosen to save his own skin. 

_ No _ , Noct pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. Ignis wasn’t that person. He had to believe that despite the evidence. Iggy would be back, and until then Noct was going to wait right--

A shout went up in the empty landscape. Loud, fierce, echoing off the rocky pass and startling Noct and his bird alike. More shouts followed in close succession, and with them the prince’s heart dropped into his stomach.  _ Soldiers. Infantry.  _ And they were terrifyingly close. 

He leapt to action in the space of a few seconds, shoving his hesitation aside along with his confused thoughts. Wrapped his cloak around himself and tugged the hood down over his face as he crept, careful of the loose ground, up to the edge of the ridge overlooking the road. 

Like a scene out of his worst nightmares, the whole of the Niflheim army was spread out below him. Soldiers marched on foot at the front and rear of the procession, while at the center the generals traveled on warbirds alongside the supply caravans. They were several hundred strong at least - Noct couldn’t count them all from such close range - and at the speed they were going, they’d likely reach the gates of the Crown City within the hour. 

Noct shuddered. His plans of getting to his father in time, warning him of the approaching threat, were dashed. Now, alone and unarmed, his only hope of stopping the army at all would involve charging right into their ranks. 

It seemed crazy. It probably was close to suicide. But he knew Ravus, even if their connection went back ten years and half a world away. If he stood a chance of being listened to, it would be the High Commander. And that meant there was no time to waste. 

He climbed (awkwardly) onto the back of his stolen chocobo, whispered into the ruff of feathers at its neck as he’d seen Ignis do so many times, and together they were skidding off down the cliff straight into certain danger. 

One thing at least was clear - he had the element of surprise on his side, as the infantry nearest to him were absolutely not expecting either a cloaked thief or a massive bird to come bearing down on them at full speed. The chocobo let out a wark in warning, and then the men scattered out of its way, breaking rank and falling into each other in their attempt to avoid the crash. Shouts went up in a cacophony of chaos. Noct clung to the bird as they raced past helmets, masks, the pointy ends of spears on their way toward the general’s line. 

“Ravus!” he cried out over the commotion. “I need to speak with Ravus Nox Fleuret!” 

The men around him didn’t seem to understand. But he was drawing attention to himself well enough - decidedly the  _ bad  _ kind - and in answer to his summons the other two generals galloped out to meet him. 

“The hell is going on here?!” a broad-faced, sneering man (Noct knew him as Caligo Uldor, one of the generals of Gralea’s airship brigade) shouted. His own chocobo, a massive, mottled grey, reared up in Noct’s path to bring the prince to a skidding halt. From his left, Loqi Tummelt closed in, as well. His grimace was as deadly as the sword he drew at his side. 

“You! You’re that lying sneak-thief! I’ll have your head!”

He unsheathed his weapon as his bird stamped at the dusty ground underfoot. Noct shook his head in desperation. “Where is Ravus? Let me see Ravus!” 

“Tummelt, you know this fool?” Uldor laughed, looking easily over the prince’s shoulder. “You should start keeping better company.” 

“Shut up, Caligo! This is the brat who deceived me in Meldacio!”

“ _ This  _ is who sent you packing your bags to run back to Zegnautus…?” 

Loqi spat on the ground. “I told you! He said the Lucian prince was being taken there, I was merely trying to--”

“Noctis?” A voice he hadn’t heard in too many years cut the general off mid-sentence. Loqi snapped his mouth shut, expression unreadable as he placed his hand over his breastplate in deference. 

“…High Commander.” 

_ Ravus.  _

There he stood, a face hardened by time but still familiar beneath the layers of tragedy and doing what was necessary to survive. Noct could never forget that face. He and Ravus had never seen eye to eye, even in the days before Tenebrae had fallen under Imperial rule. Before Ravus had taken up the mantle of military man, of Aldercapt's lap dog. Seeing him now, after so long loathing one another from a distance, Noct could almost pity him. Ravus was no less hated among these men than he had been in Lucis. 

"Sir. This is a spy from the Thieves' Guild. We were just about to apprehend him and--" 

Caligo's voice faltered as Ravus, raising a single hand to shut him up, strode forward. He closed the gap between himself and Noctis in a few long strides. Yanked him down from the saddle in which he sat, and without ceremony ripped the hood from his head before he could even find his balance again. "This is no thief. This is Noctis Lucis Caelum, the missing crown prince of Lucis," he said, voice tinged with an emotion Noct couldn't read. Around him, he watched the generals' faces turn from confusion to surprise, and, in Loqi's case, outright fury. 

"The prince!?  _ This  _ lying sewer rat told me the prince was in Gralea!" 

"And you believed him," Ravus snapped in response. "So what does that make you?" 

As amusing as it was to watch Loqi's pride stomped into the dirt, he was in a far more perilous predicament himself. He managed to break out from under Ravus' grip to face him with what he hoped passed as confidence. "Ravus, we need to talk. You've got to call off the attack on insomnia." 

Sneers, laughter from Uldor and the soldiers who were close enough to hear. From somewhere nearby, a shout from a troop captain had the men readying to march again. 

Ravus tutted. "I have no time for whatever games you're playing at." 

"It's not a game! We have to…!" Noctis shook his head suddenly, voice dropping to a stern whisper. "I need to talk to you. In private." 

"Just as well. Your arrival is fortuitous, and as my prisoner--” Noct opened his mouth to protest, but Ravus cut him off with a sharp look. “ _ As my prisoner _ , you will accompany us to our destination without complaint. If you’re foolish enough to still wish to talk to me, you may do so on the way.” 

At a gesture, rope was brought forth, and Noct begrudgingly allowed his hands to be bound in front of him. There was no point in resisting. What chance did he have against an entire army, after all? His hope now lay in Ravus and Ravus alone, and the ability to talk sense into that thick skull of his before they reached Insomnia. 

That, of course, would be easier said than done. Especially now that the High Commander was getting a good look at the chocobo Noct had ridden in on. He ran his fingers over the Niflheim colors that decorated the saddle, and turned his smouldering brown-and-violet gaze directly on the prince. “You had better be prepared to explain yourself,  _ Highness _ ,” came the thinly veiled threat, before Noct was lifted up onto the bird with Ravus at his back. 

It was the most uncomfortable ride he’d ever experienced. Armor dug into his back, his hips, pinching and prodding him with every shift of the saddle. Ravus sat straight-backed behind him, clearly used to the stiff gait of the chocobo’s movements as it took up pace again near the front of the march. Ahead, the Walls of the Crown city loomed like an opposing army; tall, dark, and foreboding, Noct was running out of time. 

“Ravus,” he started, once he was certain they were out of earshot of the other generals. “You have to realize you’re making a huge mistake.”

The answer, when it came, was cold as ice. “I’ll thank you for bringing my bird back to me. But whatever else you came here to do, you’re too late. We’ve been ordered to move ahead with our plans.”

“By who? Iedolas?”

The heel of Ravus’ hand smacked against the back of his head, shooting stars through his vision. “Watch your tongue. Do you think you’re in any position to show disrespect?”

Glaring over his shoulder, Noct did his best to shake off the pain. “You know, when I heard from my dad that you’d sold out to the Niffs, I couldn’t believe it. Ravus Nox Fleuret, kissing the boots of the man who murdered his family? He has more dignity than that. At least, I used to think so.”

“Your  _ father _ is as much at fault,” Ravus retorted sharply. “The war between the Empire and your kingdom has claimed more lives than you can ever know. Would you have had me lay down and die, as well? Aligning Tenebrae’s power with Niflheim has kept my sister and myself alive.”

“You think this is what Luna wan--”

Ravus hit him again, harder this time, and with more malice. “How  _ dare _ you speak her name. A runaway prince, consorting with common thieves and criminals. You have no right to judge me, and I have no patience to listen to your lies. Therefore, I suggest you ride in silence, or I shall tie you to the back of this bird and let her drag you the rest of the way.”

He’d made his point loud and clear. There was nothing for Noct to do but shut his mouth, and cast his glare towards the looming city walls up ahead. Sullen, head smarting where Ravus had struck him, he spent the rest of the ride wishing he knew where Ignis had one.

* * *

The Niflheim army was nothing if not inhumanly efficient. Like automatons, the soldiers celebrated the end of their long, tireless march by breaking down the supply caravans and setting up camp. Tents went up in the blink of an eye. Chocobos were stabled in make-shift pens. Smoke rose from the campfires they built, a clear sign that the troops were preparing to settle in for some time. 

It was as effective a siege as Noctis could imagine. The Niflheim soldiers had spread out along the road leading south from Insomnia’s main gates. Any would-be travelers in or out of the city would find the way blocked by the enemy. For Noct, who had spent most of his life locked within those hated walls, it didn’t take much effort to understand how badly the people would come to want out. If the siege was allowed to continue long enough, it would be the king’s own subjects who would turn on him. 

That was assuming Ravus and his men didn’t get to him first. ‘ _ Distract Regis at the gates and sneak into his castle,’  _ isn’t that was Ignis had said their plan was? He had no way of knowing how much the Thieves’ Guild had told the army before they’d fled Meldacio, but he had to plan for the worst. Which, no matter how he looked at it, meant he was going to have to do something drastic. 

He was going to have to apologize to Ravus Nox Fleuret. 

Noct took his chance the moment the opportunity presented itself. 

“Hey,  _ hey _ , take it easy. I can walk on my own.” The grip on his arm didn’t falter as Ravus half-dragged him into the largest of the tents near the back of the camp. Inside, sparse belongings, a small table and a bed roll on a rusted cot, but the prince had seen worse now. “Oh, you’re giving me a room?” 

A scoff. “This is  _ my  _ room, Noctis. If you’re lucky, you’ll have the privilege of sleeping on my floor. And take off that ridiculous cloak, I refuse to take you seriously when you look like you were rolled in a bedsheet.”

_ Rude _ . Ravus was really making this apology thing difficult. “Uh, yeah. Fine. You think you could, uh, maybe untie me first?” 

Again, the High Commander made an irritated sound in his throat, but he produced a knife nevertheless. Cutting through Noct’s bonds, he gave him a look that needed no translation. 

“Right, I got it, no funny business.” Noct watched him pace the room while he undressed. Ravus moved stiffly, he noticed, every part of his body tense even after he’d removed the heavy armor from his shoulders. Underneath, he wore not the traditional red and gold of Niflheim, but a decorated jacket of white and silver. Tenebraen colors. Noct also noticed, not without a pang of surprise, that Ravus’ left arm seemed stiffer even than the rest of him. It hung down at his side, fingers unmoving in a black glove. Almost like….

Curious, Noct set his cloak on the small table. “Did you lose it in battle?” he asked. Ravus didn’t turn around. He didn’t answer for a long time, either, until Noct was almost certain he hadn’t heard him at all. 

“No. This happened the day Tenebrae fell. There was...a fire,” came the admission. Ravus still didn’t look at him as he spoke. “I serve the Empire because the alternative is death. Aldercapt won’t stop until he has his war, and until Lucis is his for the reaping. Understand, Noctis, that this attack on the city is the best possible outcome. Minimal bloodshed, minimal death. A quick war.”

“Chocobo shit. You know my father, Ravus. You know he won’t just roll over and let you into our home. He’s going to fight you with everything he’s got.” 

At last, Ravus turned to him. Sharp eyes, full of sadness and hate, regarded him for a long moment. “It truly is to our fortune that you’ve found your way into our camp, then. I had planned to bluff as long as I could, but the king will be much easier to convince if we can show you off in the flesh. Perhaps send him a finger or two over the wall as a warning shot.”

His stomach flipped. “You can’t.”

“I think you’d be surprised at what I’m capable of now, prince. In fact, perhaps I’ll hand deliver parts of you to Regis myself, just for fun, when we storm his castle under his nose.”

_ There _ . That was the hand Ravus had finally revealed, the plan to use the Guild’s tunnels to infiltrate the city. Ravus didn’t know that he knew, of course, and maybe therein lay his chance.

“Insomnia is a fortress. You’re crazy if you think you can break through the Walls.” 

“Crazy? Or perhaps I just have better contacts in...low places.” The smirk he wore told Noctis that he was certain he’d already won. Why wouldn’t he be? He had his army, his secret entrance, and now, thanks to Noct’s own stupid heroics, his secret weapon against Regis, as well. Instead of protecting the city, Noct suddenly felt like he’d only hastened it to its doom. 

The gravity of his mistake weighed his shoulders down. Across the tent, Ravus watched on, amused. “Don’t take it too personally, Noct. Think of all the lives you’re saving by giving the Empire an easy win. I’m sure Aldercapt will honor you and your father with quick deaths to thank you for your contributions.”

It was too much. Hot tears stung at Noct’s eyes, and bitter words burned to ash on his tongue. Was this it? Was there nothing more he could do against the fight? And why,  _ why  _ had Ignis abandoned him at a time when he needed his help the most? 

If there was more Ravus wanted to say, more he could have done to tear Noctis down, he was not given the chance. The flap of the tent opened abruptly, and on the other side a soldier dropped to one knee in deference. "High Commander, sir. There's a problem." 

"Problem? What problem?" 

"Sir, the tunnel you sent us to find…." 

Ravus narrowed his eyes, looking between the soldier and Noctis as if he were somehow involved. "The tunnel will be there, I'm certain of it. Look again." 

The soldier appeared uncomfortable. "Actually, sir, we did find it. Exactly where you said it would be. Only, er, there appears to have been a cave-in, and the tunnel itself has collapsed."

_ Collapsed?! _ Noctis couldn't believe his ears. He thought back to the stone pillars and sturdy supports built into the ground that had kept the tunnel intact for decades. It must have taken a massive force - an earthquake or the will of a god - to bring the ceiling in on itself. 

Still, divine intervention or not, without the tunnel Ravus' plans to infiltrate the city would be stalled at the very least. Which gave Noctis more time. 

"You. I know you have something to do with this,  _ prince.  _ Once I figure out what hand you've played in this, I'll be back to deal with you myself." Barking orders at the soldier to keep Noctis inside the tent at any cost, Ravus stormed out through the open flap. Presumably off to handle the situation at the tunnel, but Noct could only imagine what he'd find. Thinking about it was a waste of time. Before long, the High Commander- or worse, one of his generals - would be back, and then there'd be no more chances to weasel his way out of this. 

What would Ignis do if he were in his place? Noct considered his options, subtly moving his gaze over the masked face of the soldier standing guard at the exit, to the sides of the tent where the heavy tarpaulin met cold, solid ground. No gaps large enough for him to squeeze through, and no windows or rooftops. No shadows and no cloak with which to vanish into them. No weapon. That left his fist, his words, or a miracle. 

"Um. Excuse me," he tried, noting that the guard tilted his masked face only slightly in his direction. "I, uh. I gotta go to the bathroom, so if you don't mind…." 

It had been worth a shot. The guard, however, merely stared at him, expression unreadable, and gestured to the floor of the tent. Gross. Noct sighed, and instead retreated to the bed where he could at least sit down to think. There was no way he was punching or walking his way out of this, then. If only Ravis had left a sword or even a letter opener lying around…. 

Suddenly, the soldier behind him made a sound in his throat like choking. It caught the prince off guard, and he whirled around to see the man in the grips of a frightening shadow. Darkness held his head back, pushed up on his jaw and throat until he sputtered, slumped forward, and fell like a sack of Leiden potatoes to the floor of the tent. Out cold. 

Noct watched with wide eyes as the shadow drew itself up, pulled back its hood, and smirked at him. "Really, Noctis, I'm only gone for a few hours and you're in the enemy's bed already?" 

He jumped to his feet, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. "Iggy? Where the…? How did you…?" Words burned to ash on his tongue in the heat of his emotions. Left him speechless, chest pounding, and with no other choice but to throw himself into the other man's open arms. " _ I thought you'd left!"  _

The sigh, full of relief, breathed into the top of black locks belied Ignis' composure. "Darling, I could never. I'm so glad you're safe." 

"Then where the hell were you?" The question was almost a sob, muffled by the robes Noct clung to as though his life depended upon never letting go again. "What happened?" 

"I…had hoped to be back before first light. There were some things I needed to take care of, but, as you might imagine, your father kept me longer than anticipated."

"Father…." Noctis lifted his face, eyes filled with fear and confusion. He felt as lost now as when he'd faced nothing but a swift death at Ravus' hands. "You met my father? Iggy, what's going on?" 

Between them, Ignis slipped gloved fingers around his wrists. "I'll explain on the way. They're waiting on my signal." 

_ Signal?! _ But the prince didn't have the chance to ask before he was stepping over the prone body on the floor and being dragged out into the afternoon sun. Ignis' hold on him remained firm as he used his free hand to pull something - Noct missed what it was - out of his robes and throw it into the tent behind them. A few seconds later, there was an explosion of sound like stone against stone, and a flare of heat as fire burst out to swallow the tent. Noctis’ last thought before they fled the scene was of the precious cloak he’d left to burn on Ravus’ bed. 

There was no time to go back for it. Indeed, there was no time for much of anything at all, for in that moment a cry went out from the Wall. Glaives - dozens of them, all armed to the teeth - swarmed into position at the signal ( _ ah, now he understood _ ) and began to close in on the Niflheim camp in a surprise ambush. The soldiers scrambled to react. And amidst it all, Noct and Ignis made their escape practically unnoticed in the chaos. 

By the time they stopped for Noctis to catch his breath, they were well outside the range of the fighting, and instead had arrived on a hill overlooking Ravus and his men.

The High Commander had evidently ordered an impromptu excavation of the ruined tunnel. Most of the soldiers there were sweating, covered in dirt and dust where they worked around the entrance. A few large, heavy-looking stones had been moved aside, but the tunnel itself was still a long way from accessible. 

Halfway into the shallow entrance himself, Ravus was the first to catch sight of the newcomers atop the ridge. His face fell instantly. 

“I should have known,” he sighed, making his voice loud enough for them to hear. “The sneaking prince would never travel far without his pet thief. Am I to believe this is  _ your _ doing, then, Scientia?”

Though Ignis didn’t respond, his silence was enough of an admission. Noct stared at him, a mixture of awe and guilt weighing his nerves. Whatever device he’d used to set fire to Ravus’ tent could certainly have blasted apart stone, as well, but had Ignis really knowingly destroyed the tunnel? Wasn’t he worried about how the Guild would react when they heard? 

“Very well. Don’t think you’ve won just yet,” came Ravus’ venomous taunt up the hill. “We shall have this path dug open again by nightfall - which leaves us plenty of time to  _ kill you first. _ ” 

His words sent several of the soldiers into motion, armored boots scrabbling across the sand toward them even as they reached for their weapons. Ignis, too, drew his dagger - hardly a threat against the force barreling toward them - but he seemed oddly calm in the face of it. Noct, heart thudding, did his best to stand tall at his side. 

“Iggy…. Iggy,  _ do something _ .” 

“I already am.” There was that smirk again, the one Noct was learning to both love and fear at the same time. He swallowed. 

“Well, do it  _ faster _ .” 

“High Commander! High Commander, the camp!” A miniature blur rushed past them with impeccable timing, flailing limbs and dented armor glinting in the sunlight. Loqi Tummelt, though for once he was looking down his nose at exactly no one. “It’s been overrun! There was nothing we could d-oo-oooOO!”

The last syllable followed him in a tumbling arc down the hill as he first lost his footing, then bowled the rest of the soldiers over like a dualhorn in a cactuar patch. They fell together into a pile at the bottom, sending up clouds of dust and expletives trying to untangle their limbs.

Ravus Nox Fleuret watched the display with a look of disgust written across his expression. He said nothing when Ignis sheathed his blade again, or when he and Noctis descended the hill towards him. Perhaps he already knew it was over. Perhaps this was his way of surrendering. 

“You’ve lost. Regis Caelum’s men are already driving yours back. This siege was doomed before it started.” 

“Yeah,” Noctis added, puffing up for effect. “Guess you should’ve listened to me in the first place, huh?”

Ravus looked between them, then into the distance where the clamor of battle was making its way over the ridge. Metal against metal, the roaring of flames - all sounds of a swift and utter defeat. The High Commander straightened his back and faced them with the last of the dignity he possessed. “Finish me. If I return to Gralea with my tail between my legs, my end will be far worse than a dagger through the breast.” 

Silver flashed. Ignis took a step forward, his blade pointed at Ravus despite the way Noctis tugged his sleeve.

“Iggy, no....”

“Don’t worry, Noctis. See for yourself, Traitor of Tenebrae. Even your sworn enemy shows more compassion than you yourself deserve.” 

Pale cheeks burned as if slapped. “It’s hardly compassion if you doom me to a fate worse than death.”

“Go back to your Emperor,” Ignis continued, undeterred. “Tell him what happened here. And to think twice before he makes the mistake of underestimating princes  _ or  _ thieves ever again.” 

The tip of his dagger guided Ravus in the direction of the burning camp. The flat of it slapped once against his ass, and had him picking up the pace. It was with a final glower over his shoulder that he kicked his men on the ground to their feet. They marched off, and moments later the sounds of horns blowing in retreat echoed across the plains. 

“We won.” Noct’s voice seemed small even to his own ears. Shock had him rooted to the spot, staring at nothing in particular in the wake of their unlikely victory. “So...now what do we do?”

Beside him, Ignis finally let his shoulders slump forward with the weariness he truly felt. “Perhaps a long rest is in order. Or some of that ‘coffee’ drink they’re importing from Altissia.” 

“Yeah. Good idea.”

Silence fell between them as they watched, from a distance, the Glaives chase the straggling Niff soldiers across the plains. The question nagging at the back of Noct’s mind gradually trickled down, forming into words on the tip of his tongue. “Ignis....?” 

“Yes, Highness?”

“What did you say when you met my dad?” The how, the why, the where - none of that seemed quite as important in the moment. 

Ignis rolled the question around for a moment before answering. “The truth,” he said. “Minus a few...private details. He’s a good man, Noctis. He cares for you very much, and he wants you to come home. If you like, of course.” 

“Oh.” 

“The choice is yours. I think he understands that now.” 

“...What about you, Iggy?”

“I’ll return to the Guild,” Ignis sighed, knowing full well that wasn’t was Noct was asking. “There are things I need to explain to them, and loose ends which need to be tied. I suspect it won’t be easy to expose Ardyn’s betrayal, but I must at least try.” 

Deep blue eyes pulled away from the scene across the empty plains. Noct looked up at Ignis instead, and in a tone as serious as he’d ever been in his life, announced, “I want to go with you.” 

“No, Highness.”

“But, Iggy--”

His protests were cut short by Ignis’ arms folding around him, a cocoon of warmth and safety enveloping him as quickly as nightfall. Soft lips pressed to the top of his head, followed by the soothing hum of his lilting voice in response. “I love you always. I swear to you that I will return within a fortnight. Wait for me, Noctis.”

The prince’s arms found their way around Ignis in return. Nothing he could say would be enough. No words could express the pain, the gratitude, the love in his heart, and none would be enough to change Ignis’ mind. He knew that, and yet he was nothing if not stubborn. “You’d better. I’m gonna leave my window open.” 

A chuckle against soft black locks. “No need, darling. No need.”


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Noctis may be back home safe and sound in Insomnia, but things have never been more thrilling.

Noctis woke in the middle of the night to lips being pressed to his throat. 

He hadn’t heard Ignis enter the room, of course. He never did. The thief came and went through the Citadel as he pleased these days, a shadow in the dark that the glaives had learned to turn a blind eye to. They never commented on the way the prince’s door always seemed open to him, or the noises they heard while patrolling the hallway outside of Noct’s room. There were certain downsides to being a castle guard, and putting up with the young prince’s romantic escapades was only one of them. 

That night, Noctis’ laughter filled the night air, light and genuine as it was. He’d missed Ignis. He’d missed the tickle of hair against his cheek, the way gloved fingers slid like silk beneath his nightshirt. He’d missed the weight of Ignis around him, above him, inside him, a constant with which to ground himself when his heart soared too high to land. 

It settled eventually, like he did, back in his bed. Ignis rolled onto his side and Noctis followed, curling against his bare chest, his legs unable, unwilling to release him from their hold just yet. He smiled as Ignis kissed him, and stroked his fingers back through soft brown hair. It was almost ridiculous to think that such a perfect moment had started with a kidnapping. Which had nearly incited a war. Which had, in turn, ended with the greatest adventure he could have ever dreamed of. 

“What’s so funny, Highness?” He hadn’t realized he was laughing aloud until Ignis pressed him. Noct smiled to meet those beautiful green eyes, so full of amusement and curiosity, 

“Well. I was thinking,” he started, and stretched himself more comfortably out on the sheets. As expected, Ignis’ gaze followed. “I passed two of the Shadow Trials, right? But you never gave me the third test. Why not?”

“Noctis, you can’t still be thinking of joining the Thieves’ Guild? That was a ruse, remember?” 

“But what if I want to give all this up one day?” he smirked, easily tugging Ignis over to settle on top of him again. Stretching both of their arms up to the pillows, he brought their mouths just close enough to brush when he spoke. “What if I wanted to be your Shadow forever?”

The breath Ignis released might have been his name, but it was as much moan as it was air. Noctis had rolled his hips up, rubbing against Iggy’s sensitive flesh to encourage the interest already reviving there. 

“I could be the first Thief King of Lucis. It has a ring to it, don’t you think?” 

“Mmm, indeed it does.” 

“And you could rule it with me.” Noct let out a shuddering sigh of his own at the thought - and at the way familiar thighs were eagerly spreading his own apart. “Master Thief and Thief King. We’d be unstoppable.”

“Noctis,  _ gods _ ….”

“So...you gonna give me the third Trial or what?” White teeth flashed in a wicked grin. “Please, Igs?”

If he’d been expecting Ignis to do anything other than slip out of his grasp, instead turning the tables to pin him to the mattress under his full weight, he’d have been pleasantly surprised. “The third Trial is simple, love. I saved the best for last.” 

Noct’s head began to grow heavy with need even as he nodded. 

“The task is breaking and entering. The tougher the lock, the higher your score.” A pause while he let his hips rock rhythmically against the prince’s below him. “And I suppose there are bonus points if you manage to steal something valuable.” 

Through the need fogging his brain, Noctis was already hatching a plan. A  _ good _ one, too, if he spun it right. Licking his lips, he did his best impression of a horny, rich teenager (he was  _ very  _ convincing) for his lover above him. 

“Tell me, Iggy. Have you ever wanted to have sex in a royal treasure vault?” 

~End~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;) 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed the story! Here are some notes to help clarify a few things: 
> 
> 1\. The Thieves' Guild here is based heavily on Skyrim, right down to holding their Council in the sewers lol 
> 
> 2\. Regis isn't actually a bad father, of course. Much like in canon, he's a bit over protective and busy with his work. Keeping Noct safe in his tower seems like the best defense against all of the bad guys who are constantly after him, but he doesn't necessarily consider how lonely it makes his son. The two need some quality time to talk it out.
> 
> 2\. Ignis DOES become Master of the Thieves' Guild in the end. This is in part because of his actions in stopping the war and turning in Ardyn, which in turn protected the interests of the Guild. Plus, once Highwind learned that not only did he steal the prince in the first place, but then _stole his heart_ as well, even she conceded the crown.  
> 3\. Cid totally recognized Noctis the second he laid eyes on him. He kept that to himself, though, because no one would have believed him anyway. 
> 
> If you have any other questions, please feel free to leave a comment below! I'd love to hear from you :)


End file.
